


A Spider in Peril and a Merc on the Way!

by khryseraph



Series: Khryseraph's Spideypool Collection [1]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Aftercare, Angst, Ass Invasion, Bathing, Bondage, But not only sex, Cum drinking, Deadpool Vs. The Avengers, Diaper Usage, Domino the Rescuer, Face Sitting, Fleshlights, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Gay Peter Parker, I love sex, Love, Luck Be A Lady, M/M, Mechanical Arms, Mental Illness, Nipple Play, No Straight Sex Allowed, PTSD, Pan Deadpool, Pan Wade Wilson, Peter is a Forced Bottom, Recovery, Rimming, Savior Deadpool, Sexual Assault, Spread-Eagling, Strong Punches, Swords to the Face, Tony Stark's Illusion, Trying character development, Vacuum Seals, ballbusting, cocksucking, face fucking, gay spiderman, lacy underwear, mysterio IS a bad guy, nipple sucking, wet dreams
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-02-25 03:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 28,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22008994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khryseraph/pseuds/khryseraph
Summary: Peter Parker is kidnapped at the hands of an unknown foe, and Pepper turns to a well-known mercenary for help in desperation. Will she regret that decision?Everything in the MCU is canon up until Far From Home, except for the fact that Peter didn't get snapped away. He and Aunt May moved with Tony to the cabin. Five years of bonding later and Peter is one of the family. After the events of Endgame, Peter fell into a deep depression after Tony's death and hung up the suit. EDITH is still within "Fury's" possession. Mysterio has become quickly famous after successfully making the world believe he is a hero. Also, there is a red-and-black suited maniac mercenary who exists in this universe. It would be too complicated to try and fit his story into the MCU as a whole, so I'm just gonna say he and every other character from his movies that I like exist in this universe. Any Mutants are just victims of a mysterious Weapon X genetics engineer program that some unknown mercenary exploded, freeing the inhabitants along with himself. They try and lie low, not wanting to draw attention from the Avengers or deal with the Sokovia Accords. Except for Deadpool, who gives absolutely no f***s. Enjoy!
Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson, Spiderman/Deadpool
Series: Khryseraph's Spideypool Collection [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1710769
Comments: 26
Kudos: 127





	1. A Deal in the Dark

**Author's Note:**

> I have been pretty obsessed with this ship lately (one of my all-time favorites), so I decided to try and creating a story that went on for as long as I wanted it to. Plus, I'd like to think I have at least passable grammar, so hopefully no concerns there :)
> 
> Things that I know about:  
> All Spiderman appearances in the MCU  
> The two modern Deadpool movies (ignoring the PG movie)
> 
> Things I don't know s**t about:  
> Anything related to the comics (never read them, sorry)  
> New York  
> Spiderman or Deadpool villains
> 
> Since I don't know the stated information above, I am relying heavily upon how these following works for information and how the characters sound. If you feel I am taking too much, or you wrote it and don't want me to use it, then please let me know! Thank you. I'll update this list whenever I find a new work that inspires me (because of its awesome story).
> 
> "Tacos, Spider-suits, and Sex" by Castello on FF.net  
> "Superman's Demise" based on an original story by Robert Moon (AKA 'Lunatrick') on Jayse's Brutal Ball Busting Stories on blogspot.com

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pepper and Happy, in extreme desperation, turn to a well-known mercenary for help with a kidnapping.

The _click-clack_ , _click-clack_ of heels pacing on concrete provided the only sound to echo in the secluded parking structure, punctuated by the occasional sniffling followed by the wiping of a tissue. Pepper paced back and forth, heart pounding.

_Where the hell is this guy?_

She felt more tears brimming and took a deep, shuddering breath. The briefcase in her left hand weighed heavy. It wasn’t often that she worked with mercenaries - usually, any situations that arose could be handled by Stark Industries’ own privatized security or, if absolutely needed, she could call on one of the heroes.

In fact, both were already focused on the rescue. Bruce, Sam, Bucky, Clint, Wanda, Scott and Hope, T’Challa, Strange, even that new hero Mysterio, were all helping her search. But nobody was having any luck. Nobody could find him. So here Pepper was, holding a payment for a renowned mercenary who could supposedly do anything, for the right price. 

“Take a breath, Pepps. He’ll show up.” Happy leaned against the car, worry written across his face. He held a bag of Mexican food, a part of the payment for this mercenary’s services. 

“I hope so. I don’t know what I'm going to do if he can’t help.” She looked at Happy, tears streaming down her cheeks. “We need to get Peter back. He's a part of our family. Tony’s family. I can’t bear the thought of what might be happening to him. Who would do this?!” She couldn’t hold back the sobs. She needed him home, for Tony, Morgan, May, and herself.

Happy shook his head, a few tears welling in his eyes. “I don’t know. But you’re right, we need to get him back as soon as possible. Nothing I say to May helps. She won’t leave her bed. She won’t eat. If we don’t get him back…” Tears started sliding down his cheeks. Suddenly, there was a screeching of tires echoing in the structure.

“...want my baby BACK, baby BACK, baby back RIBS!” The two looked up at the taxi that was pulling up. It had the head of a red-and-black hooded man sticking out of the passenger side, looking around wildly. The taxi stopped in front of Pepper and the man jumped out, swords hitting the roof of the taxi. He gave a long, languid stretch, reaching down to his toes and then stretching backwards, a few sickly _pops_ echoing in the structure. He turned to the Indian man behind the wheel. “Thank ye, Dopinder, me hearty! Now, yeh best give yer cap-e-tan some private time with these here landlubbers. Yo ho!”

“Yo ho, Mister Pool! Take care now!” Dopinder sped off. The costumed man turned to Pepper.

“Well then, lass. Did I hear correctly that ye were looking for a dashing, strong man to take care of yer problems?” 

Pepper stared at him, both her and Happy practically in shock. 

“Uh... yes, I am.” She wiped the remaining tears away with the back of her left hand. The bizarrity of the situation was enough to calm her down. “Are you the mercenary? Deadpool?” 

The head nodded. “Yes, ma’am! The one, the only, Deadpool! Wade Wilson! The Merc with a Mouth! The Biggest Dick Around!” He jumped and landed in a pose, jazz hands waving excitedly. He held that pose for a solid minute, Pepper and Happy staring dumbfounded at him. He eventually sighed and let his hands fall to his sides. “Spoilsports. So what is it you need help with, from a man of my talents? Killing a president? Saving a baby? Hunting down a super-intelligent baby-president? If you got the dough, I’ll do whatever you need!” Underneath the mask, Deadpool smiled widely, his damaged lips stretching grotesquely. 

{I’d love to kill another baby-president. There aren’t enough of them around.}

_We're working here, Yellow._

[Working on your jazz hands, I see. Don’t they get enough ‘exercise’ as it is?]

“That's rude, White!” Deadpool mumbled.

Pepper narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?” DP shook his head.

“Nothing. Now, what can my fine personage do for you today?” 

Pepper sighed. She pulled out a photo of Peter, holding it fondly. It was clearly well-worn, and showed Peter's laughing face as he was being tackled by Morgan.

“This is Peter. Peter Parker. He was abducted a week ago from his bedroom in Queens. We need you to rescue him.” Pepper handed the photo to Deadpool, who snatched it quickly out of her hands. He whipped out a magnifying glass and held it to the photo, clicking his tongue.

_Fuck, he’s cute._

“Interesting. Very interesting. What makes you think this sweet lil’ thang was abducted and didn’t, say, run away?” He put the magnifying glass away, looking back at Pepper curiously.

“His window was broken from the outside, and he hadn’t left his apartment in weeks. He’s a… special person. He wouldn’t leave without telling anyone. Will you take the job?” Deadpool took no hesitation in nodding furiously.

_Not every day we get to rescue someone of his cuteness._

[That's disgusting. He looks like he's barely sixteen!]

{So what? It's not like shit-for-face here should give a damn.}

She handed him the briefcase, and Happy approached with the Mexican food.

Deadpool gladly took both items, first inspecting the food. He seemed displeased.

“I don’t see any chimichangas in here! Where’s the ‘changas?!” Happy frowned. 

“They didn’t serve chimichangas at the restaurant I went to. But there’s a wet burrito in there that should work.” 

“How dare you!” He examined the bag some more. “There aren’t even any TACOS here!” Deadpool threw the food up into the air, quickly taking Bea and slicing it to pieces. He slid the bean-covered sword back into its sheath. “We’re safe now, baby.” He stroked the briefcase delicately before opening it. Pepper, wiping rice and salsa off her face and jacket with a free tissue, wished she could stop the deal. But she was warned - you don’t back out of a deal with Deadpool. 

Deadpool examined the contents of the briefcase and whistled. “Triple payment?! Is it our birthday?! MERRY CHRISTMAS, FELIZ NAVIDAD, AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR TO ALL!”

White and Yellow were cheering. It seemed no personality in Deadpool's head could shame his love of money.

Pepper sighed, her chest getting tight again. “The first payment is for finding Peter, as we don’t currently know where he is. The second is for saving him if you do happen to find him. The third is for keeping his identity a secret.” Deadpool looked away from the money, snapping the briefcase shut.

“Oh, really? And what identity does this _Monsieur_ _Parker_ have that requires $10 million to keep under wraps?” He said Peter’s name in an overtly French accent. He stroked the briefcase lovingly, his $30 million making his groin stir.

{He’s Batman!}

[Robin!]

_Wrong universe, guys. I think._

Pepper took a deep breath. 

“He’s Spiderman.”

_No fucking way._

“Sorry, I wasn’t sure I heard that. This little BABY BOY is SPIDERMAN?!” 

Yellow started cackling. {You jacked off to a child! YOU JACKED OFF TO A CHILD! PERVERT! PERVERT! PERVERT!}

White couldn’t help but laugh too. [You really are a pervert, you cradle-robber!]

_You're supposed to be on my side, White!_

[If being on your side means supporting pedos, don't mind if I ditch.]

Pepper’s mouth hardened into a tight line. “He’s currently twenty-one years old. Certainly not a _baby_. And yes. The third payment is to ensure you don’t speak of this assignment or his identity to anybody. We figured that you might need to know his hero identity to learn who the captors are. We doubt he was abducted as a civilian. Will you help us?” 

Deadpool cradled the briefcase in his arms like it was a child. 

{You gonna start making love to it? Just like you wished you coulda done to Spidey seven years ago?}

Deadpool cursed at Yellow as he cackled.

“Hmm. Yes. I’ll rescue this sweet prince from his tower. But when I bring him back, I expect some God-damned chimichangas! AND tacos!” 

Pepper nodded. “Understood. And, Deadpool. Please bring Peter home safe and sound. He’s family.” 

Deadpool gave a toothy grin under his hood.

“I’ll bring him back in tip-top shape! Don’t you worry one bit!” And with that, Deadpool sprinted to the side of the parking lot and leapt out, aiming for Dopinder’s cab. 

“TALLY HO!!!”

He crashed through the roof of Dopinder's taxi, making the poor man spill his _chai_ on his lap. 

"OWW!" He patted his lap, balls burning. "DP! I asked you not to do that any more!"

"My apologies, my fine sir! BUT WE HAVE A SUPER HERO TO SAVE! Giddy-up cowboy!"

{Shouldn't he be the Indian?}

"SILENCE, MY DEAR YELLOW! ONWARD, TO VICTORY!"


	2. The Boy in the Bondage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter lies bloody and broken, his body and mind succumbed to his captor's sexual will.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: This chapter contains explicit descriptions of rape and depression (the depression from my own experiences). Realistically, this story delves really deeply into Peter's experiences and how they haunt him. If that's not your thing, best to dip now. Also, I don't condone rape or dubiously consensual situations. I write about it to express my fetishes, but I want to make it clear that anything that happens to Peter in this part of the story is really fucked up and should never happen to anyone.

There was no point in screaming. Not anymore. 

That’s what Peter had done for the first three days. When his Master didn’t have his cock in his mouth, he screamed, shouted, and begged. He pleaded with every breath to know why this was happening to him. What had Peter done to deserve this?

After five days, Peter really questioned if he would be found. His Master was only too happy to inform him that he was locked up somewhere he would never be found. Several miles underground in a facility nobody would think to check. 

After seven days, Peter believed him. Even if he were found, the traps laid throughout the base would tear anyone to shreds - superhero or not. Razor wire, poisonous gas, hidden bombs, illusions that would drive them insane. 

Peter knew the validity of the threat, as this same illusion tormented him, non-stop. He didn’t let him sleep. He fed Peter disgusting slop. The illusion humiliated him, beat him, raped him. It cursed his faggot life and told him that he was nothing. That he should’ve died in the battle against Thanos, not Tony. 

It especially hurt that it was an illusion of Tony saying it. 

Peter had lost track of how long he had been here. Every sense of his was in overdrive, and had been for ten days now. His Spider-senses had been screaming in his head, non-stop. 

[ _DANGERDANGERDANGERDANGERDANGERDANGERDANGERDANGER_ ]

Over and over and over and over again. Thousands of times over. Now, after everything that had happened to him, it felt like little more than a nasty headache.

…

Day One

…

Peter moaned, trying to stretch in his bed.

Except he wasn’t in his bed.

[ _DANGER. DANGER._ ]

He jerked, opening his eyes to unpleasant industrial lights all focused on him. His heart pounded as he tried to take in his surroundings. His ankles and wrists were held down by… mechanical arms? He was spread-eagled on a king-sized bed, wearing nothing but his briefs. 

His heart rate soared.

_What the fuck is going on?!_

“Ah. Peter. You’re awake.” 

This must be a dream. Or a nightmare. A really awful, truly horrific nightmare. That voice was Tony’s.

“Heh. Hey there kiddo. Hope you slept well.”

Peter tried to talk, to ask him how he was alive, but a crude gag was sitting in his mouth and strapped around his head. The gag was a dildo.

“Mm, sorry I had to tie you down like this! After all, how could I let the boy who murdered me, who _ripped me away from my wife and daughter_ , roam free?” 

Peter shook his head. Tears started falling down his cheeks. He tried to tell Tony that he didn’t mean for this to happen. That it wasn’t his fault.

“I mean, I wouldn’t have even been a part of that final battle if you hadn’t convinced me to bring my Mobius Strip calculations to the Avengers. I would still be here, alive, with Morgan and Pepper. YOU-” 

He stepped into the light. It was him. Tony. 

“-TOOK THAT AWAY FROM ME. Ah well. At least now we will get to spend the next few years together, yes? Just you and me. Call it father-son bonding time, kiddo. After all, when I’m done with you, you’ll worship me as your Daddy and you’ll be my little. Baby. Boy."

He seemed pleased, smug smile twisting his features. This was Tony's face, but it wasn't Tony. 

"Now then! Let’s get this show on the road!” 

Tony reached over, suit jacket as dark as night compared with the bright lights. He took a hold of Peter’s whitey tighties and tore them off, leaving him bare to the world. 

_Oh God. Please wake me up from this nightmare. Please tell me this is nothing more than a dream. Please._

His prayers would go unanswered. Another mechanical hand came down from the ceiling, holding a tube. It slid through the sides of the dildo gag and shoved deep into Peter’s throat. A blue liquid flowed down the tube, into his esophagus. He was forced to swallow it.

The effects of the liquid soon became apparent. His body went hyper-sensitive, even for Peter. The lights were blinding. The sound of Tony’s every step ringing. His Spider-senses blaring in his head, telling him what he already knew: he was in danger.

Soon the other parts of his body became sensitive. His traitorous cock became rock-hard, his asshole aching for attention. Every slight movement of air tickling his perky, pointed nipples. 

And that’s when the torture truly began. Five mechanical arms came down. Two, with suckers on the end of them, found their way to his nipples. He sucked in air through his nose as they attached themselves to his nipples. The next arm had a clear bag with an opening, which went straight for his large balls. It engulfed them. Another had what appeared to be a fleshlight on it, and violently pushed its way onto his engorged, 8” dick, before it vacuum-sealed itself on. Finally, the last went for his ass. It could easily be mistaken for a butt plug. It was quite large, long, rounded, and had a thin neck behind a thick body that would easy be sealed by his asshole. The plug glistened with lube and swiftly, brutally, shoved itself into his ass.

This was where the screaming really began. His ass tore from the intrusion. 

After this brutal invasion, he was left there. His ass, bleeding, healed fairly quickly and tightly gripped the plug. 

When he had about fully healed, Tony stepped back into view, inspecting his ward’s ass. 

“Hm. Seems like we’re ready, doc! Activate the nubs!”

And with that, the plug grew hundreds of small “nubs” that expanded out into Peter’s rectum. He couldn’t even make a sound, the pain and extreme stimulation overloading him. 

_I just want to go home._

“Let’s get this show on the road! Turn it on! Let’s get some web from this spider, huh?” Tony laughed cruelly. 

A final arm came down, holding another tube. This tube was slightly bigger than the first. It attached itself to the entrance in the bag engulfing his balls. Once it was vacuum-sealed, water started flowing into the tube and filling the bag. For the first few seconds, it felt kind of good for Peter. 

He had been invaded five ways to Sunday, but at least the water comforted his balls. 

The bag filled quickly, and soon was at what Peter judged to be its limit. But the water didn’t stop flowing. It kept gushing into the bag, but instead of expanding the bag further, it now started to crush Peter’s balls. He screeched. 

[ _DANGERDANGERDANGER_ ]

“Little spider, little spider. I wanted to start things off by seeing how much of your sticky web I could get from you, and how long it would take to shatter your little boy balls there. Your healing factor and superhuman strength and endurance are rumored to be absolutely astounding, but I doubt even your balls could take this for long, especially when I turn this on. Go ahead! Let's unman this pathetic boy!”

The nubs, the nipple suckers, the fleshlight… everything began vibrating, sucking, jerking. Peter nearly came right away from the activation. He had been in agony while he healed, not only from the pain in his asshole, but from the devices sitting on his sexually-charged body and not making a single move. Well, that changed now. 

He yelped as everything activated. This machine, this torture device, was made to make Peter cum. And every time he would cum, the mounting water pressure on his balls would cause them to shrink and weaken _just a little bit more_. 

The first cum was painful. He hadn’t cum at all since Tony had died. He was stuck in bed in the cabin, wishing for nothing more than to be left alone and die. He watched the light fade from Tony’s eyes. His... father. Dead, because of him.

And so it was that weeks’ worth of cum gushed into the fleshlight and the vacuum in there sucked it up, depositing it into a jug. 

“Our first batch! I wonder how many more we can draw out of this boy. Bring the intensity to its max! Let him have it!”

The devices all went on overdrive, vibrating, sucking, lubricating like crazy. The blue liquid slowly but surely kept dribbling down his esophagus. Peter’s heart pounded, sweat gushing into pools on the bed.

_No more._

…

It took a whole 24 hours of this torture before his testicles finally burst. First the right one, then the left. A sickening _gursh_ could be heard. Peter passed out from the pain. By this point, when the machines finally shut down, he had filled 10 of the jugs full of his milky cum. 

Tony examined the battered boy. 

“I can’t wait to destroy him. You did this to him, Tony. Congrats.” The illusion faded, melting away. No longer was it Tony Stark standing above Peter, but Quentin Beck. Smiling cruelly.

“Boys, once this _thing_ -” he gestured at Peter, “-wakes up, you’ll feed him his first two jugs of semen. Put him in a diaper so that when he awakes he's forced to sit in it." He thought for a moment, then made his decision.

"Hey, Doc!"

The intercom activated.

"Yes, Mister Beck?"

"I've been thinking... I have _years_ to destroy this slut, but I still need to maintain my public appearance. Let's get my body double down here to take over for me every other day, starting today. Make sure he stays in his role as Tony, and let him live out every depraved fantasy his mind comes up with."

“Yes, Mister Beck. As you say.” He nodded.

“Good. Now then, I have to go comfort the grieving widow. Let her know my search for this _whore_ is in vain.” 

He chuckled darkly, leaving the room.

Little did he know that the _whore_ was listening, faintly, his heart thudding in his chest.

_Oh God. Please get me out of here._

…

Day Ten

…

Hours upon hours, days upon days of Beck and his double tormenting Peter in every sexually perverse way they could imagine. That’s what Peter suffered. And while Peter knew it wasn’t actually Tony Stark doing the tormenting, there was no dissociating from the fact that it was his hero, his idol, his makeshift father raping and beating him every hour of every day for ten days straight. 

Peter felt nothing at this point. The slaps, the cutting, the punching, the dry raping… nothing. He didn’t care if he was rescued. He didn’t care about the thought of leaving May alone. Peter wasn’t Peter anymore. He _was_ nothing. He _felt_ nothing.

Finally. The nasty headache went away. Peter slumped on the bed. It looked about as bad as he did. Some of this morning’s cum (the final amount of what he had produced on his first day here) glistened around his mouth. That cum, along with copious amounts of water, was his only sustenance. It was vile, Peter had originally thought. Now, it tasted like nothing.

The boy lied there on the bed, an empty shell. He didn’t ponder why his Spider-senses had finally stopped. The constant, horrific pain… it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. His ass, his mouth, his soul were all violated. Probably permanently. Peter's tongue slightly touched his puffy lips, the lips that had been stretched far beyond what is reasonable for the sake of Tony Stark’s dick, his ass, his feet… everything. Oh well.

That’s when the loudest explosion rocked and finally processed in the Peter’s mind. Vaguely interesting. Not that it concerned him.

“What the HELL is going on out there! ANSWER ME!” Tony shouted into his radio. No response. He growled.

“Fine. I’ll see what’s going on myself.” He stepped up to the door, the only entrance into this torture chamber of sexual horrors. As he reached for the handle, the door shot open, inwards, throwing Tony backwards and sprawled onto the floor. 

“Why, howdy there Mr. Stark! Or, should I say… MYSTERIO!” Deadpool, with his left arm sliced off from a razor-wire trap, his suit in rags from several shrapnel-filled explosions, gripped Bea tightly in his right hand. His eyes glanced over the bed and the lifeless form on top of it.

“I’m here _monsieur_! Give me a couple hours with this bozo, and then we'll get you out of here!"

Deadpool cracked his neck, then stared at Tony menacingly. His form shimmered and faded, revealing the form of Quentin Beck.

"Why hello, Quentin. Let's get started, shall we?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter wasn't too much. I needed to break him down before Deadpool could build him back up.
> 
> As always, comments, appreciation, and criticism are all welcome! Be ruthless - it can only help! Thanks folks.


	3. The Family on the Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A spider-boy in pain is rescued by a Merc with a Mouth. But is Peter even Peter any more?

Deadpool sauntered forward, Bea clutched in his right hand tightly. Beneath the glove, his mottled skin was white as paper with the exertion Deadpool used to grip his sword. He glared at Quentin's form, white eyes in the mask expressing nothing less than pure, undeniable, unrelenting _hatred_.

{Are we _really_ about to stab Jake Gyllenhaal?}

_Don't you_ _DARE equate this monster with the Gylls. Jake is beautiful, seductive, and clever. This piece of crap is hardly worth a second thought. Clearly just a random character who absolutely ISN'T Jakey-poo._

[Aren’t you supposed to be stabbing him and stuff?]

_Oh, right._

Deadpool had stopped his slow, steady stalking towards Beck's form to have this argument with Yellow. He shook his head, hatred filling his eyes once more.

"So, _Mysterio_. You like to kidnap innocent super heroes and rape them. You have one minute - tell me why I should spare you." He looked down at where his left arm should be, pretending to look at a watch.

"PLEASE! I'M NOT-"

Nothing more could be heard in terms of actual words from the man, seeing as his jaw was now dangling, shattered by a quick kiss from Bea. His cheeks were sliced, his tongue removed and flopping to the ground in a shower of blood. Shattered bits of bone, which used to be teeth, scattered loudly across the ground.

You couldn't begin to imagine the screaming that came from Beck's throat.

Well, maybe you could.

Excruciating pain, or ten days of torment and rape by a man you loved as a father. Which would make a man scream worse?

Deadpool's eyes gleamed with malice.

{Ho DAMN! NO MERCY! That's what I love about you, Pool! When you get in the zone, I get all hot and bothered! Let's fuck this asshole up more!}

White was silent in shock. Deadpool was glad to not have to listen to his more _conscionable_ voice intruding on this precious moment.

"Oops! Sorry about that! Bea sometimes has a mind of her own, I tell ya! What do you say, Bea? Wanna fuck this asshole up more?"

Beck had brought his hands up to his face, screeching at the amount of blood gushing from his wounds. 

With another quick flash of steel, Beck no longer had hands.

Deadpool chuckled darkly at the passed-out man who was oozing blood.

{Let's make sure he doesn't bleed out! I want to see the PAIN in his eyes as he watches every body part he loves get removed and glued back on him in creative fashion!}

_I'd like that._

And so it was.

...

Eventually, after a solid two hours of Deadpool letting loose, Beck's heart finally gave out while DP was skinning his piggies and taking them to the market.

The scarred man stood, taking in several deep breaths, reveling in the odor of blood and death that surrounded him. He shook his head to get out of the blood-gasm mindset he was currently in. 

{MY GOD. I never thought I'd say this, but you really topped yourself this time! What a glorious blood-gasm that just occurred!}

White had stayed silent for the time that Deadpool indulged in his fun. Now, it spoke up.

[Wade. It's time to get the boy.]

And with that, Wade gasped and jumped up, shaking in horror as he examined what he had done.

_WHAT THE FUCK?! WHAT THE **FUCK?!**_

[I know, Wade. But it's time to focus! Get. The boy. Out!]

{WHIIIIIITE!}

Yellow sounded like a whiny child.

{YOU _RUINED_ IT! WE WERE HAVING SO MUCH FUN!}

One swipe of Arthur, being held by Wade's freshly-regenerated left hand, freed the boy from his bondage. Wade sat down on the edge of the bed, lying his body down on the blood-, semen- and piss-stained bed. His head found its rest on Peter’s chest, listening for a heartbeat. His heart was beating so slowly, so weakly.

_Oh God. What did he do to you?_

Wade chose to emphasize his focus on caring for Peter to stop the bile that was rising in his throat from his alter-ego's actions.

{Pfft. It’s obvious. Spider-brat’s a virgin no more.}

_You shut the fuck up, Yellow! You have lost your speaking privileges for the day._

{Eesh. Touchy.}

Wade continued to examine Peter, knowing the futility of trying to stop Yellow from tormenting him. It's not like it'd ever worked before.

[Wade, focus. Didn’t we promise to bring him back in 'tip-top shape'?]

_Yeah. We did._

[Well… it doesn’t look like the job is finished, then, is it?]

_What are you saying? That we should take care of him?_

Yellow guffawed. {Gayyyyyyy!}

And with that, Deadpool brought a pistol out from his right holster and fired beneath his chin, splattering Peter with brain matter. Peter’s body didn’t even shudder as Wade, and his voices, fell silent.

…

It took several hours, but Wade’s head finally closed up. All of his cuts and shrapnel wounds healed about as much as they would be.

Wade sat up, popping his neck to the left, and then the right. 

“Ah, that hits the spot. Let’s blow this puppy stand!”

[That’s not the phrase.]

"Like I care."

{Killing yourself to shut me up is _rude_ , jackass!}

"As I said, like I care. Maybe you should learn to be less of a dick."

He stood up and faced Peter. A few quick swipes from Bea and Arthur freed the boy from the mechanical hands.

“Alright, Peter. Ready to get out of here?” He cradled the boy’s body in his arms, surprisingly gently for the mercenary.

{I thought it was only money you cradled? Or are we _actually_ becoming cradle-robbers now?}

Wade chose to do his best to ignore that.

He carried Peter’s ravished body out of the compound. It was a Stark Industries security bunker, located several miles below sea level in the Rocky Mountains. 

Deadpool thought it was pretty clever to hide Peter in a Stark Industries’ bunker. No wonder none of the heroes thought to look here. And every security member of this facility was paid off by Beck.

_Assholes._

{Dead assholes now.}

_You know that's right._

“All right, Pete. I promised to only bring you home to your family in tip-top shape. So you’ll be coming home with me for a little while, at least until we have you back to your web-slinging ways. Any ob-jec-shee-ohns?”

Silence.

“Groovy. Let’s go home, Webster.”

Wade brought Peter into his rent-a-copter, spray-painted with his logo on the side. He sat the boy’s body down into the co-pilot’s seat before sitting himself in the pilot’s seat.

…

Fifteen hours later, Deadpool landed the helicopter on his "private landing pad", also known as the roof of his shitty apartment building. He got out, picked up Peter, and walked to the door on the roof. He used his right hand, being careful not to touch the naked boy’s ass, to grab one of his many guns and blow off the lock.

He went to his apartment, room 411. He maneuvered his key into the lock and pushed his way into the filthy apartment. Pizza boxes, taco wrappers, chimichanga trays, chips bags… it all littered his floor. And, standing amongst the filth, was Clint Barton, AKA Hawkeye, holding a bag of what smelled like Mexican food.

“Kid!” Clint’s eyes widened, tears welling. “We thought you were dead! We found the bunker, and what happened in that room..." He shivered, a haunted look crossing his face. He turned to Deadpool. "With this, our business is done, and we'll never have to see you again, correct?" He held out the Mexican food.

Wade put a finger up to his lips, shushing the man. He went to his bedroom, lying Peter down gently on the bed. The boy’s eyes were open and hollow. Wade slid his fingers over the his eyelids, closing them softly.

Deadpool stepped back outside, closing the door quietly. 

“Well good afternoon, Mister Eye, sir!" He stood in a salute. Considering he was mostly naked (the shrapnel was not kind to his suit), Clint focused his eyes strictly on Deadpool’s mask. "Sadly, Peter is not in any condition to return home at the moment. I will be handling his recovery and care from here on out, and let him return to you when he is ready." Hawkeye lowered the food. Deadpool felt his stomach growling.

"That's ridiculous. I saw what you did to that bastard Beck. He should have paid for his crimes, but you..."

Deadpool chuckled. "He did pay, Hawkeye. I would agree, perhaps not enough, but I let my fun get the best of me and killed him too quickly. But he won't _ever_ trouble Peter again."

Clint's eyes filled with anger.

"HOW DARE YOU-"

He had stepped forward, his finger pointing at Wade's chest, when he suddenly found a steel katana right at his throat.

[What are you doing?!]

_What needs to be done. Let me handle this._

“What are you doing?!” Clint asked, quickly snapping his bow into place and stepping back out of the reach of the sword. Deadpool smiled under his mask, preparing a little surprise in his other hand.

“The job is not finished, my good sir! I swore to Miss Potts that I would return her spider in top form, safe and sound! Now, get out!” 

Clint narrowed his eyes. 

“This is your last chance, Deadpool. We’ve stayed out of your business so long as you’ve kept your targets limited to the truly evil. Give me Peter now or I’ll-”

At this, Deadpool pulled the trigger. The tiny gun hidden in the palm of his left hand fired at Hawkeye’s right foot, making him step out of the way right before the bullet hit.

“Was that supposed to hit me?” Clint asked smugly.

“No, it was supposed to make you move. _Fly, you fool!_ ” At that, Clint was lifted up into the air by the rope that was hidden beneath the taco wrapper he had just stepped on. It slammed his head into the floor, making him drop his bow and giving him a concussion.

Deadpool swiftly grabbed the bow and an arrow, pointing the drawn arrow at Clint’s head. 

“I warned you, Barton. Nighty-night.”

He dropped the bow and delivered a swift, but hard, kick at Clint’s head. 

However, Hawkeye anticipated this and curled his body enough to avoid the kick. He pressed a finger to his ear. 

“ _GET IN HERE NO-_ ” He didn’t have any time to say anything else, as Deadpool’s knee landed into his nose, spewing blood and knocking the archer unconscious.

[Are you crazy?!]

Yellow guffawed. {Who are you asking? Thing One, Thing Two, or the Mad Cat in the hood himself?}

_We gotta blast!_

Deadpool charged towards his room, where he saw a man in an odd super suit standing over Peter. 

“HONEY. WHERE’S MY SUPAH SUIT?!” Deadpool announced, launching Bea right at the man’s head.

It thudded into the wall, the man having vanished. Or, perhaps, shrunk.

_All these god-damned pests. I really need to clean this place._

He leapt over the bed, stomping on the ground to try and crush this ant-like man. 

{Really? Ant-like man?}

[He’s trying. Give the man some leniency.]

Deadpool stomped, missing Ant-Man. 

{ _Thank you_. Seriously. Like people don’t know Ant-Man.}

_Shush! I’m trying to focus here!_

It appeared that he was gone. At least, that was until a surprising amount of force slammed into the back of Deadpool’s head. He was thrown into the wall, growling. He turned to see Ant-Man being carried by Wasp.

“Suck on this, tiny!” He flipped his lamp’s light switch on, causing it to launch a flash-bang into the air to explode right in front of the flying duo. The light blinded and disoriented them, causing Wasp to fly wildly - right into Deadpool’s flyswatter. It hit both the miniature heroes, sending them crashing into the wall, still tiny. 

“Now, that’s what I call pest control!”

{Jesus. How long’d that take you to come up with? Surely you can do better than that?}

_Shut up. I’m dealing with a lot of Avengers here. Only got so much time to come up with clever one-liners._

[He’s right, though. You could stand to put some more effort in.]

_SHUT UP!_

At that, he jumped up on the bed, Bea Arthur gripped in his hands. 

“COME AT ME, FUCKERS!”

A portal appeared on the roof, in front of his bed. Wanda and Doctor Strange floated down, her hands and eyes red, his cloak fluttering. T’Challa leapt down, landing stylishly. Bruce, in his hulking form, clambered down after him, eyebrows furrowed.

Deadpool groaned. 

“Seriously? Why don’t you just bring the Winter Soldier and Falcon here, too?”

At that, his window exploded. Bucky launched in, landing into a roll and ending up right next to Wanda. Falcon followed, having thrown the soldier from the air.

“ _Daaaaamn_. This Pepper does _not_ fuck around, does she?”

Wanda narrowed her eyes. 

“Silence, monster. Give us the boy and we’ll consider leaving you in only one piece for the police to find.” Her eyes glowed red menacingly. 

[I would do what she says.]

{Well, it’s not like that would actually _do_ anything.}

[I mean, it would still hurt.]

{Maybe not if it’s that bee-utiful Black Panther doing the severing. _Meow_.]

_Now's not the time, Yellow. But you ain't wrong._

“Darlin’, I’d love to do that. But I have an obligation to see Peter get better before he comes home. So I suggest you all get back in that magic portal and leave my house. I’d hate to have to beat _all_ of the Avengers in a single day.”

[No, you wouldn’t. You’d love that.]

_Lol. You know me so well._

Sam snickered. “And how the hell would you do that?”

Deadpool glanced excitedly at him.

“With this!” He lobbed a stick of dynamite, hiding in his right hand behind Bea's handle, at the man. Everyone’s eyes followed it. Wanda instantly snatched it out of the air with her ability and concentrated, prepared to seal the explosion. 

“Good catch! But that wasn’t what I meant.” Deadpool laughed. He held up the Temporal Dial in his left hand and pressed the button on it. 

T’Challa leapt at the mercenary, almost grabbing him before he and Peter vanished. The portal above the heroes also closed, Strange's sling ring vanishing.

Strange cursed. “He took the ring to the Sanctum. Wilson, Maximoff, with me!” Strange’s cloak lifted and he flitted out the window, zooming towards the Sanctum Sanctorum. Sam and Wanda followed. 

T’Challa and Bucky searched the mercenary’s apartment. They found and confiscated a large collection of guns, along with tens of millions of dollars, some of which was blood-stained. The freezer was full of frozen pizzas, the cabinets in the bathroom full of rubber ducks. 

Bruce cradled the miniaturized Scott and Hope in his large right hand. He also cut Clint down, lifting him over his shoulder so he could get them all medical attention. 

What the Avengers hadn’t realized was that both Peter and Wade were underneath the bed. The Temporal Dial was great at travelling to and from the past, but struggled with slowing time. It could only hold its charge for a minute or so, which Deadpool had used to get himself and Peter under his bed, but not before snatching Doctor Strange’s sling ring and tossing it in through the portal. He marveled at his intelligence.

_Damn I’m smart. Dumbass Avengers. No wonder they couldn’t stop the Snap._

He glanced over at Peter. 

_Except for you. You really did almost succeed. My little Spider-Man. What a hero._

[Leave the boy alone. He isn’t _yours_. Not yet, at least.]

_I didn’t mean it like that, White. I’m just saying that Pepper was right. He **is** a special boy. _

Deadpool sighed when his front door finally closed. He climbed out from under the bed, pulling Peter with him carefully. 

“Well, Petey. It’s time we go find Weasel.”

 _Weasel's a weird name,_ thought the boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love every single comment I've received so far. Thank you all! I am gonna do my best and try to make the relationship between the two make as much sense as possible. XOXO, Gossip Girl.


	4. The Help in the Bar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool looks for some help from an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! The holidays, along with a sickness, kept me kinda distracted. Please enjoy! And comment!

It wasn’t hard for Deadpool to find a wheelchair to push Peter around in. The first hospital whose parking lot his helicopter landed in had an old geezer scooting around in one. Some “persuasion” (in the form of $100,000 from Wade's hidden stash) got the fool to give up his chair. 

_What an idiot. It's so easy to trick people into giving up their stuff for money._

Thirty minutes later, Deadpool was landing his helicopter in the parking lot of Sister Margaret’s School for Wayward Children. Bikers and drunks alike stared as the DeadpoolMobile (as Wade fondly called it now) landed, taking up quite a few parking spots. 

Deadpool got the newly-acquired wheelchair out and placed Peter’s body in it. He was wearing a set of Hello Kitty pajamas from Deadpool's apartment. DP himself had changed into a fresh suit, but had put a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt over it to stay hidden from the Avengers. Camouflage at its' finest.

He wheeled Peter into the bar, which was dead silent waiting for the mysterious patron to enter. When they saw Peter, in a wheelchair with his hot pink and cat-decorated pajamas, they went back to their drinks and standard tomfoolery. 

“Welcome, jackass! Why don't ya take a fuckin' seat and I’ll bring you a…”

Weasel took a real look at the “jackass” that just entered his bar. 

Then he looked at the figure that was pushing him. 

“WADE! What the fuck, man?! You bringin’ the fuckin’ SWAT to my front door? You _want_ me to go outta business?”

[The entrance could have been a bit more inconspicuous]

_Nobody asked you._

“Nobody asked you, dickwad! Take me to the back room.”

Weasel opened the door to the back room, where Wade wheeled Peter.

“Holy shit. What the fuck happened to this kid? Did you do this?!” Weasel accused, staring open-mouthed at Wade as the door shut behind him. Peter's eyes were open and hollow, staring at nothing.

“No, dipshit. I rescued him. I need somewhere to lie low. You still got Domino on speed-dial?”

Weasel narrowed his eyes. 

“The fuck you want wit’ her, huh? You not thinkin’ of doin’ somethin’ with her? I'll have you know she's taken!”

Deadpool laughed. 

“No, Weez. I gotta favor to ask her. So you _are_ sweet on her, aren’t ya? And she's into _your_ ugly ass?” Weasel blushed.

“Shut the fuck up, man. And look who's talking!" He and Deadpool laughed. "Just gimme a couple minutes, I'll give her a call.” He stepped out of the room, closing the creaking door behind him. 

Wade slowly stepped around the wheelchair, crouching to look in Peter’s hollow eyes.

“Don’t you worry, Petey. All we need is a little bit of luck to stay out of the Avengers’ sights. Once we get some bona fide shielding from the forces of good and evil, I’ll be able to bring you back. I know it’s hard, being where you are. But it’s not impossible to come back. Never forget that.” 

He heard a sound behind him.

“Aight Weasel. Let’s get this…” 

[That’s not Weasel! Get your swords!]

Deadpool pushed Peter’s wheelchair backwards, sending him into the wall, out of harm’s way. He rolled backwards, tearing a katana through his sweatshirt and placing it at the strange man’s neck.

“I would put that down if I were you,” Stephen Strange said. 

{Yeah fucking right.}

“Yeah fucking right. Why should I, doc?” Strange chuckled.

“Well, for starters, this is not my real body.” He stepped through Deadpool’s sword, towards Peter. 

“Now, you stop right there, Ghost Doctor Strange!” Deadpool leapt forward, through Strange’s apparition to get between him and Peter, and aimed a gun at his head.

“I am not a ghost, Wade. This is my astral projection. I had heard from… others… that you might have a special mindset, one that allows you to see things other people cannot.”

“You mean the unicorns, right? They’re pretty friendly, really. When they aren’t trying to fuck your butt with their horn.” Despite his childish tone, the gun was leveled right between Strange's eyes.

“Um. No. That is not what I mean.”

“Well then, why are you here, doc? I got away from you once, I can do it perhaps twice more! Maybe three if I find the right friend!” Strange stared at Deadpool.

[He looks mad.]

{Shoot him! Use the special bullets!}

_Give me a minute._

“I am here to talk, Wade. Peter is not well. I could sense it the moment my portal opened. The sheer amount of anguish, suffering, and pain washing off of him is only a fraction of what's he's going through… What happened to him was terrible.” Deadpool lowered his gun slightly at these words, aiming at a less-vital portion of Strange’s ghostly body.

“Yeah, it was. I only had to smell that room to know what that fucker did to the little spider. What about it?”

“I do not think he can return to his family yet. They will not be able to bring him back from this. Only so many humans have been broken down this much and been able to recover. Yourself chiefly among them.” Strange’s eyes swept over Deadpool’s suit. 

{Ha ha! Strange called you psych-oooo!}

_That’s not what he meant, dick. Shut up, will ya?_

“What makes you think I recovered?”

“The fact that we are having this conversation is proof enough. Listen, Wade. Peter needs to come back. His fate is not finished.”

Deadpool inwardly cringed.

“So that’s what you care about? His destiny? I thought all you Avenger sorts were going after him cause you’re all goody-goodies.” Strange shook his head.

“I am no Avenger, and it is better for you that I am not. He has a major role in the wars to come. He _must_ come back. So, Wade. Here is the deal I make to you. I will aid your efforts to stay hidden from the Avengers. Give you time to work with Peter, to restore his mind and spirit. And in exchange, you will do everything in your power to give the world Spiderman back. What do you say?”

[It’s a good deal.]

{From this douche? No way he’s telling the truth. Kill him with the Spectral Bullets!}

[Do that and they’ll never stop hunting you.]

{Good! Let them come! KILL THEM ALL!}

_Shut up._

“I agree, douchebag. You’ll help sabotage their efforts? Not use your wizardry to find me?”

“Yes. Plus, I have something that will come in handy. Don’t take advantage of it. Good luck, Wade. The world is counting on you.” With that, Strange’s astral projection zipped away. Moments later, a portal opened in front of Wade. A small ring fell out of it, into his waiting hand.

{Fancy. Sucks we didn't shoot him though.}

_Don’t make me shoot me again._

He slipped the ring on. Nothing really seemed different. Until he looked at Peter. He felt an unmistakable urge to caress Peter’s face. When he did so, the ring brushing up against the boy’s clammy skin, Deadpool was transported. 

…

Day One

…

_*I'm sorry.*_

…

Wade lied on a patch of green grass, smoke filling his lungs. He coughed, turning over and looking around at his surroundings. He was in what used to be a field with a few trees scattered around. Now, he was in a hellscape. Most everything was on fire.

_Where am I?!_

[Oof. A mind within a mind. Not pleasant.]

{You’re telling me. I’m a mind within a mind within a mind!}

_Will you two shut up?! Where are we?_

[The boy’s mind, Wade.]

_What??_

{We’re in cutie’s brain-hole, dipshit.}

[And... it's begun.]

Wade closed his eyes, focusing, and was able to see, feel, and hear everything Peter could.

_*NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! NONONONONONO! PLEASE!*_

Wade heard the screaming, wanting to do it himself. He felt how Peter's balls were being crushed, his senses overloaded, his body being violated. Everything. And he found Peter.

_*OH GOD PLEASE! PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!*_

Wade opened his eyes back to the burning field, only this time, there was a boy in the fetal position, screaming. 

_PETER! I'm here! Please, focus on my voice!_

Peter didn't hear him, his pleading and sobbing echoing through the valley of his mind.

_Please, darling! FOCUS ON MY VOICE. I AM HERE FOR YOU._

Peter opened his eyes, staring at Wade. They were full of pain, fear, misery, and so much more. 

_*SAVE ME! SAVE ME! **SAVE ME!** *_

Wade let out a small sob.

_I'm here! I'm coming for you, Pete! Please hang in there!_

Then Wade was gone.

... 

Wade jumped back, the ring burning hot. He flung it off, yelping, tears brimming in his eyes. Even the fragments of feeling Peter's emotions were a lot for the Merc to deal with. Weasel ran in.

“Wade?! Is there a damsel in distress here?!” He was holding a small pistol, swinging it around.

{He called you a bitch!}

“No, dick. Only me.” He rubbed his finger. “Got any aloe?”

“Sorry, Wade. Only have it for real men. Not prissy avocado-faced bitches.” He smirked.

“Whatever, douche nugget. Did you call Domino?”

“Yeah. She’s expectin' you. Here’s the address.” He handed Deadpool a small piece of paper with some chicken-scratch on it.

“Thanks Weez. Here’s a tip.” He tossed a roll of money at the man. It had a $100 bill wrapped around the outside, and was full of ones. Not that Weasel knew that.

“Ho shit! Anytime Wade!” Deadpool nodded, quickly walking back to Peter and getting the wheelchair ready to go. He pocketed the rapidly cooling ring.

“Also, I told her about the helicopter, and-”

“It’s the DeadpoolMobile!” Weasel stopped.

“Uh, right. I told her about the DeadpoolMobile, and she was not impressed. She doesn't want to attract that much attention. Let me sell it, and you can take my car in the meantime.”

“Sell the DeadpoolMobile?! How DARE you! You will land it on your roof and protect it! If there’s a single fucking scratch on it, I’ll blow your fucking brains out Weasel. I’m calling a cab.”

Weasel paled as Deadpool wheeled Peter out of the back room. Even though he was pretty sure Wade would never hurt him, he couldn't say he had the same confidence for Deadpool. At times, it really felt like they were two different people.

…

It wasn’t long before Dopinder pulled up, a piece of cardboard with blue tape covering the gaping hole in the roof.

“Hello Mister Pool! Ready to go?”

“Yes, my lovely little brown drop of sunshine. Please help me get Peter’s wheelchair here into the trunk.”

With some “convincing” (AKA, bashing with the butts Bea Arthur), DP and Dopinder managed to get the trunk to close. Deadpool set Peter down in the back, his eyes empty.

Deadpool climbed up onto the roof of the car and pushed his feet through the cardboard to get in the passenger seat.

Before Dopinder said anything, Deadpool handed him a roll of money. It had a $100 bill wrapped around the outside of it.

“For the roof, Dopey.”

Dopinder’s frustration at his friend immediately melted into gratification.

“Oh, thank you DP! Where are we off to?” Deadpool handed him the piece of paper Weasel had given him. 

“There, Dopinder.”

And they were off, to Domino’s meeting place.


	5. A Friend to the Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domino meets Wade, and sees his need to rebuild the young Peter Parker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darlings. I know it has been a while since I've posted, but life has been hard (lol). I hope everything is going well for you. 
> 
> Anyway, my 21st birthday is in six days, and I plan on publishing a few more chapters between now and then. Especially considering that, besides from classes, I have literally nothing to do. 
> 
> This chapter is short, but I promise to try to keep up on posting new chapters to keep y'all entertained. As always, I love to hear your comments. Please, shower me with them - criticisms and love alike. I can't wait to hear what you have to say - after all, what's the point of writing if you don't write with the intention of pleasing your fans???
> 
> Love you all.
> 
> XOXO, Gossip Girl

Wade wheeled the chair under the overpass, walking around to examine the boy. Dopinder sped off, on Wade's instructions to zip back if he got any texts from him in the next half hour. Peter's eyes were hollow, staring at nothing. The usual by this point. Wade sighed and sat on the boy's lap.

"Oh Peter, my Peter. Don't worry. You'll come back, and it will be glorious," Wade smiled at the thought. What would the boy say when he came back?

'Oh, thank you Wade! My savior!'

'Please _kiss_ me Wade! You hunk of ground beef you!'

Ah, that was the dream.

Wade stood and walked around the chair, looking at Peter in his pink pajamas. 

{ _I can see what you're thiiiiii-nkiiiiiiiiing._ }

_No one asked you._

[I mean... is he wrong, though?]

_YES! This boy is in need of our help! I refuse to sexualize him when he needs my help. You two should be ashamed of yourselves._

{Oh, shut the fuck up, perv. You jacked off to the boy _looooooooooooooong_ before he was eighteen.}

_Shut up, or face the wrath of another bullet._

Thankfully, as he was pulling the gun up to his head threateningly, the _click-clack_ of heels reverberated beneath the overpass.

Domino (AKA Neena Thurman) walked into view, her very attractive outfit and heels distracting Wade from his goal of shooting himself.

"Hello, Wade. I hope you aren't going to do that in front of the boy?" She asked, looking at Peter somewhat inquisitively, but mostly ambivalent. She blew and popped a bubble of the purple gum she was chewing.

Wade pulled the gun down, smiling through his red-and-black mask.

"He's seen me do worse. WHAT'S UP MA GURL?!" He shouted, arms outstretched, getting between her and Peter.

She sighed. She walked forward and gave him a small hug. He cheered and lifted her off her feet, spinning her. When he set her down, her hair was, luckily, undisturbed.

"Yes, Wade, hello. I thought I told you that I wanted to be left alone? After all, since that X-Force business turned sour, I didn't feel a need for you to contact me."

Wade looked at her, stars shining in his eyes. He lowered his arms

"Oh yes. However, this little boy here-" He smooshed Peter's cheeks together, making the catatonic superhero look hamsterlike. "-is in need of some _dire_ help. I was actually hoping that you might be able to help us out, by giving us some protection. You know, with that _fake_ power of yours?"

Neena laughed, then considered a moment.

"I never thought I'd see the day that Wade Wilson cared for someone more than himself. Well, since you asked so nicely... of course you can stay with me. My luck will keep you well protected from anyone seeking _you_ or the boy. I only ask one thing in return."

Wade stared at her, hearts beaming in his eyes.

"What's that?!"

"Don't fuck in my room."

Wade stared at her, mouth open.

"Wha- NEENA! PLEASE! A _sophisticated lady_ such as myself would never _dream_ of doing anything with this poor boy! Especially not with what he's been through..." His voice drifted seriously.

"Besides, how do you even know I like him?" As he said this, Wade was dancing up and down on his tiptoes, clearly elated at having found a place to stay.

Neena gave a small grin. "Lucky guess."

Wade laughed heartily, and gave her another spin. She was getting annoyed with this.

_I hope he'll be safe, with her around._

They walked towards Domino's sleek Jaguar. The wheelchair wouldn't fit, so Deadpool left it behind, sitting Peter in the small backseat.

As he sat down in the passenger side, Domino smoothly sliding into the driver's seat, he gave her a look.

"So... Weasel? Really?"

She chuckled.

"He's a touch overbearing, works a bit too hard for me. But he's sweet. Buckle up."

Off they sped, not noticing one of the small, winged cameras Falcon had sent to scour the city searching for Wade. Just as it turned to report to its master, a falcon dove at it and crushed it in its claws, thinking it was prey.

How lucky.


	6. The Victim in the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Wade and Peter settle into Neena's apartment, Peter finally starts to emerge from his catatonic state. Slowly, but surely, with Wade's help.

It wasn't long before Wade had set the boy up in the spare bedroom in Neena's apartment. It was intended to be Wade's and Peter's room, but Wade felt that Peter deserved his own living space, for as long as he was recovering. Wade claimed the couch as his personal stake-out spot. It was already dirty with taco wrappers and Cheeto stains.

Wade scrambled when Neena left that first day, asking her where she was going.

"You don't need to worry, Wade. I've lived here for so long that this place has sucked up enough of my power that it won't ever be discovered by my enemies. Just relax and take care of the boy."

She had left early in the morning, the day after their meeting under the overpass. A small part of Wade wondered where she was headed to, but most of him was concerned with the man in his care.

...

Several hours after Neena had left, Wade found himself lying next to Peter. He had a freshly cleaned uniform and mask on, and had gone out to grab some more uniforms from a local safehouse.

The ring was buzzing in his pocket, aching to be put back on. Wade sighed.

_I don't want to see him like that again. It was so... horrible._

{Suck it up, buttercup. The boy needs you.}

[I never thought I'd agree with that yellow-bellied sonofabitch, but he's right. You need to go to him.]

_Fuck._

_Fuck!_

_FUCK!_

_Fine._

Wade fingered around in his pocket for the ring Strange had given him. He found it, somewhat nervous to slip it on.

{Don't be a bitch, Dickpool.}

[He needs you.]

_I know. Shut the fuck up, and maybe I can put it on._

He stared at it. The last time he had put it on, he had greeted a terrified boy who was having the life sucked out of him.

 _Please, let him be okay. I can't stand his_ _hurt_.

And with that, he slipped the ring on, and caressed the boy's face. 

...

Day Two

...

Wade opened his eyes, the grass under his body crinkling. He leaned up onto his elbows. Everything around him was dead. The field, which should have been full of bright green grass, was now scorched and full of dead, gray grass. There were no trees. 

Wade sighed. This was too familiar.

He stood and looked around, seeing a shape curled up in the grass. It could only be Peter, except... it wasn't.

The body was scorched, burned, red and raw from flames that seared everything off. Hell, he looked how Wade did when he escaped from that awful facility all those years ago. 

_Oh Peter. Oh no._

A gasp.

The boy screamed. It seemed he had been lulled into an almost unconscious state, but Wade had startled him back to consciousness and he was in pain.

Wade rushed over and scooped the boy up in his arms, trying to simultaneously get as much contact as possible to soothe Peter, but not irritate the fresh wounds covering his whole body.

Peter's body screamed and sobbed, and Wade held him tight.

_It's okay, Baby Boy. It's okay. I'm here. I'm here. Please stop screaming hon, I'm not going anywhere._

Peter's sobs were tearing through Wade's soul. It was just about the worst sound he'd ever heard.

_*What's happening to me?! Why does my mind hurt?!*_

Wade sighed, bouncing up and down slightly as a parent might do to an upset baby.

_Oh hon. It's- it's so hard to explain. Your body is going through so much trauma, so much pain, that there is a bleeding effect to your mind._

Peter sobbed more heavily. It seemed every slight movement sent pain streaking across his body. Wade made soothing sounds in time with the bouncing.

 _*It doesn't matter,*_ he choked out. _*I don't deserve anything less anyway.*_

Wade's heart broke at that confession.

_NO, Peter! That is not true, not in the slightest! Nobody deserves this, nobody! Please believe me, you are worth so much more than what's happening right now. I'm coming to save you._

_*I don't want to be saved. He's dead because of me. His family lost him because of me. I don't deserve anything better than this.*_

Wade was about to argue again, until he felt an impulse run through him. He quickly set Peter down as quickly and lightly as he could.

And Wade was gone.

...

The ring seared his finger, and he threw it off. 

_GOD DAMMIT PETER._

{LOL. I knew you wouldn't be up to the challenge.}

_Shut up right now, Yellow, or I swear to Lady Death that I will blow my brains out every day for the next month._

Silence.

 _That's_ _better_.

Wade stared at the lifeless shell of the boy sadly.

"Oh you poor boy. Poor, poor spidey. I'm so sorry. You don't deserve this! I promise you, I'll get you out of there. I promise."

Wade leaned into the boy's pink-clad shoulder, tears sliding down his face.

"Know." Just a whisper.

Wade stopped, his heart pounding. He could swear he just heard Peter say something.

"Know."

His heart exploded, arteries bursting with joy. It took him a minute to heal himself before he realized why his body had died for a minute.

_He knows I'm here. He knows it's not his fault, somewhere._

There was no amount of money, no prize, no reward that could have made him feel as good as he did then.

_Come home, Peter. Come home._


	7. The Adventure to the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade establishes a routine as best he can. Every day, he takes care of Peter. Every day, he puts the ring on, once. Hopefully this works.

It didn't take long for Wade to settle into a routine at Neena's apartment. He'd start the day off caring for Peter's body. He'd remove the soiled diaper, bathe the boy, dry him off, and get him back into the Hello Kitty pajamas and a clean diaper.

Wade handles Peter's body with the utmost respect and professionalism, trying to not let his sick sexual desires get in the way of his care for Peter. The voices fought constantly about whether he was doing an effective job of that.

...

{Look at him! He hasn't gotten rid of his erection for _days_. He's _clearly_ taking advantage! Besides, you know just as well as I do how often he fantasizes about being a Daddy for a diaper boy.}

[I admit, we both know the scenario turns him on. But he doesn't _do_ anything about it. He cleans the boy up as quickly as he can and gets him back into bed. What do you want him to do, wear a cock cage to stop him from getting hard-ons?]

{That would teach him. Or turn him on either more. Fifty-fifty chance.}

_Will you two please stop?_

{Never.}

...

This bickering filled Wade's head, and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Normally, when White and Yellow got like this, he would take an exciting contract and go traipsing around the world, slaughtering evildoers and get shot lots of times in the process. The excitement, action, and pain were the best treatment he had to shut them up, or at least not hear them as loudly.

But, caring for Peter meant he couldn't leave the apartment. Not only were the Avengers scouring the city vigilantly, searching for the Merc, but they had even held a press conference where they had shown his face, name, and costume, asking anyone who saw him to call the hotline for a reward.

_Bastards._

[They're doing what they think is right, Wade. Even if they're wrong, they just want him home safe.]

_I don't need **you** to tell me that, White. I'm very much aware why they're doing it. But it's gonna be a lot harder to take jobs when half the country knows my face, name, and uniform. _

Wade had lost much of his humor. Being cooped up with the voices and hardly anyone to talk to (since Neena only really stayed at the apartment to sleep, when she was not to be disturbed), left him stir-crazy. He sat on his phone, flirting with anyone he could find on Grindr or Tinder, using a fake profile. For obvious reasons, he couldn't use any of his real photos to chat. Not that he would, ugly fucker he is. 

The only thing he could do to help the boy was visit him in his nightmares. He hated every second of it, but swore that he wouldn't stop trying to wake him up.

These are their stories.

_Dun-Dunnnnn._

...

Day Three

...

Wade collapsed to the ground, shuddering. He hated how the dry, crackly grass scraped against his skin.

{Here we go again. What's the point of doing this? I get the _worst_ headaches when we come here.}

[If you don't care about the boy, at least care about the money. We got $10 million to do this.]

{Exactly! We _already got paid_. Let's just ditch the boy in the alleyway and be on our way!}

_Absolutely not._

Wade took a deep breath, standing up. The landscape was about the same as last time. Charred fields, scorched stumps of trees. Nothing living in sight.

_*You're back.*_

Wade looked around for the source of the voice. He turned around wildly, seeing Peter standing, shaking, in sight. He looked about as horrible as yesterday, but his skin had scabbed up and no longer hosted fresh wounds.

_Oh Peter. Yes. I'm back._

_*Why?*_

Wade looked puzzled. A breeze picked up slightly.

_What do you mean why, Webster? I'm here to save you!_

_*I doubt that. You're just a figment of my imagination, after all. Nothing more than my mind trying and failing to stay sane.*_

Tears brimmed in Wade's eyes.

_No, spidey. I'm not fake._

{At least, he hopes he isn't.}

[Shush!]

Wade approached Peter, who recoiled.

_*Why do you keep coming back? Why do you keep torturing me?*_

Wade stopped, looking hurt.

_I don't know what you mean, darling. How am I torturing you?_

Peter's shoulders sagged.

_*You're showing me myself. All that I am, all that I will ever be. Scarred, deformed, disgusting. That's all I am now. If you aren't fake, then you're working with my Master to punish and torment me.*_

Wade looked down. He was naked. His wrinkled, scarred body was there in all its unholy glory. He hated it. No wonder Baby Boy thought he was here to torture him. They didn't look unalike, with Peter's injuries. His words, however, still stung. 

{Damn. You're torturing the lad, Wade! He can't stand to look at you!}

Yellow wasn't wrong. Peter had sat down, sobbing quietly, head resting on his arms.

Wade quietly walked through the field, his feet crackling on the yellowed, dead grass.

When he got close enough, he sat down opposite Peter. His sobs stopped, tears still pouring down his face, fear flashing in his eyes.

Wade reached out a ridged, cancerous hand to rest on Peter's arm. Peter recoiled.

_Spidey. I am not here with that monster. I am here for you, and only you. You, after all, are the amazing Spider-Man! The world needs you back. Your family needs you back. I'm here to bring. You. Back. Nothing more, nothing less._

The tears on Peter's face slowed. To Wade, it seemed like the grass perked up a bit, stood a little taller, looked slightly less dry and dead.

_*You're lying. He played this trick today. Made me think I was being rescued. Made me think that I would be found. I won't be. I'm nothing. There's no Spider-Man anymore. There's no Peter anymore. Go away.*_

He sobbed, letting his body fall sideways into the fetal position.

And Wade was gone.

...

Wade flung the ring off, getting more used to the searing pain that made him want to chop his finger off. 

But the tears in his eyes told of a different pain.

_Oh Peter. I'm so sorry._

{Well, you should be! You scare the child half to death every time we enter that hellscape, what with your nasty-ass avocado body.}

[That's _rude_ , Yellow.]

{It's _honest_ , White.}

He sat down next to Peter, using his "nasty-ass, avocado" hand to stroke the boy's hair, trying to ignore White and Yellow's banter. 

"Oh, kiddo. We'll get you out of there. We will lock up each of those days, one by one, until we seal them up nice and tight. I can't erase them, but I can make them... manageable. That's how it works for me."

Peter stirred slightly, seeming to lean into Wade's touch.

"Hero."


	8. The Visits to the Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade continues to delve into Peter's mind. Hopefully he wakes up soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been reading a TON of Spideypool fanfics lately. Here's a list of my current faves:  
> "Long and Loving Spideypool" by Nrem511 on AO3  
> "Becoming A Spider" by Lemonworshiper on AO3  
> "One Reason Why" by NotEvenCloseToStraight on AO3  
> "Alone Together" by nothingtolose321 on AO3
> 
> I highly, highly recommend all of these stories. They're all different and amazing in their own ways. If there's any issues with me mentioning these stories, just let me know and I'll take them down! But they are definitely the inspiration for this current bout of creativity.

Wade sighed, his head resting between his hands while he sat on the couch. Tears glistened in his eyes.

_God dammit, Peter. Fuck._

He had just come back from Peter's seventh day under torture. It was miserable.

On the fourth day, Peter still accused him of being one of his torturer's agents. The grass had started to become more yellow than gray, and it seemed like Peter's scabs were healing. 

On the fifth day, Wade noticed Peter's hazel eyes, a faint flicker of hope flashing upon seeing the man. He stopped accusing Wade of being a torturer, but still recoiled when Wade tried to comfort him with touch.

On the sixth day, it felt like they were making progress. There was even a slight chuckle that escaped Peter's mouth at one of Wade's antics. Wade had lit up after hearing that gorgeous sound.

It seemed Peter's mind was slowly being rebuilt. The field had some patches of green, the sun started to make the area warmer. There was even a small tree growing where Wade had appeared each time. That had been fun to get speared on when he visited Peter on the seventh day.

It even looked like, slowly but surely, Peter was regaining consciousness. Leaving his catatonic state. He'd managed a few small words after Wade's visit to the sixth day of torture. 

"I see you."

That was it. Wade's heart soared as he comforted his burned finger. His eyes flashed giddily up and down Peter's frame. It seemed there were small twitches and fidgets. Peter had even managed to blink.

But that was over now.

...

Day Seven

...

 _AGH_. 

Wade screamed in his mind.

_FUCKING SHIT IN A BISCUIT._

Wade looked down at his stomach, where a small but sturdy branch was stabbing through his spine and abdomen. 

He shuddered. For some reason, this hurt shitloads more than it did in the real world. He placed his hands on the ground, which was only about two feet down, and pushed. He screeched in pain as he slowly lifted himself off the spike, finally flipping off it and onto the ground. As Peter slowly approached him, a ghastly look on his face, Wade's wound had already begun sealing itself up.

A minute passed, and Wade leapt up off the ground.

_Hey, Spider-Man. Fancy seeing you here._

_*Uh... hello. Why did you do that?*_

Wade laughed heartily.

 _Why, indeed. It seems your field is growing a tree, little one._

Wade beamed at Peter.

_*Right.*_

He was ashen. His scars started blending together, healing in a way Wade had only ever dreamed of seeing on his own physical body.

_*Why are you back?*_

Wade's smile dipped slightly, but he pushed on. Conversation was working. Getting him out of his shell.

_Well, I wanted to be here to see you <suffer.>_

Wade shuddered, his vision spotty. What the fuck?

Peter's eyes widened at the cancerous man.

_*What did you just say?!*_

_I- I said that I wanted to be here, to be with you, <so that I can help Tony teach you your lesson.>_

Peter fell backwards, his whole body shaking. His face was awash with horror.

_*No! I... I thought you were here to help me! You said you weren't helping him!*_

Wade chuckled darkly.

_< Yes, little one. I did say that. Now you see the trick. Tony is there to damage your body. I am here to damage your mind. You are nothing, and we are here to show you.>_

With that, he turned around and reared his foot up.

[What is going on? Wade?!]

He smashed his foot across the tree, splintering the small thing. The change could be felt immediately. Any light in Peter's eyes went out. The grass, which had slowly been coming back to a healthy green, withered and cracked. The area turned cold.

_*I knew it.*_

And with that, it was done.

{What the fuck, Wade?!}

[Why did you do that?!]

Wade shook his head, clearing it. What was going on?

He looked down at the splintered tree.

_Oh no._

He turned around and watched as all of the life Peter had slowly been building died out. He reached a hand towards the sobbing boy.

_Peter!_

And Wade was gone.

...

When Wade had awoken, the ring was ice cold. So cold it burned. He flung it to the floor.

He turned toward Peter, lying in the soft bed.

He said nothing.

Wade leapt up toward Peter's head, cradling it.

"Oh Baby Boy, pleasepleaseplease come back! Please!"

But he was gone.

He was again catatonic. No life, no twitches, not a sound from his lips. Nothing.

Wade sobbed. 

_What the hell happened?! White! What_ _happened?!_

Silence.

_WHITE! ANSWER ME!_

[You... you crushed the boy. You destroyed his tree and told him that you were helping Tony teach Peter his lesson.]

Wade's stomach dropped out. He felt like he was going to be sick.

{That was cruel, Wade. At least when I tell you to destroy someone, it's someone who has a chance of fighting back. I wanted you to have your fun with the boy. But not this.}

_I don't understand. I don't remember doing it. I pulled myself off the tree, but there's nothing after that._

He sobbed loudly for several hours, soaking his mask and Peter's top and pillow. Wade eventually trudged his way out to the living room, to give the boy space. 

_What have you done, Wade Wilson?_

Now, here he was. wallowing in misery and sadness. 

_That's enough. It's time for me to step in_.

With that, Deadpool jumped up and left the apartment.

He went to another one of his seventeen hidey-holes in the city. In it was several brand-new guns, tools to take care of his swords, and several explosives.

_Exactly what I need._


	9. The Message to the Sorcerer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade sends an angry message to his dear old magical friend.

Pepper paced back and forth in her office in the Avengers Tower. 

_What the hell has this world come to? Why did I ever trust that bastard?_

The bloodbath at the Stark Industries' bunker in the Rockies was... terrible, to say the least. Those heroes she had asked to go examine the site came back with a haunted look in their eyes. 

Clint had told her. It was awful. There were people who had been stabbed through the neck, people with their bowels split open and spilling out onto the floor, people who had been quite literally cut in half. Heads without bodies, bodies without genitals, genitals found in the mouths of severed heads...

Not to even speak of the horror waiting at the heart of the base. Deadpool's "masterpiece."

It was sick.

What the hell had she unleashed?

Now, here she was. Six days after that massacre, after Deadpool had beaten and avoided almost every hero at her disposal, and Peter was nowhere to be found. Everyone searched tirelessly. She had made sure that there was no way for the Mercenary to escape the city. She'd gotten the help of Wakandan technology and made sure that the moment Wilson crossed the threshold out of the city, they would know instantly. So he's still here.

_But where?_

As she continued brooding and thinking about where he could be, a knock sounded at the door. Her heart surged. Maybe it was good news.

"Come in! Please tell me you have-" Her face fell. 

Clint walked in. She could tell he didn't have good news from his scowl.

"Turn on the TV. Any local news channel."

She did so, having FRIDAY project the channel on the wall.

A news anchor stood, wind blowing around her. She looked scared. Pepper could see a police barricade behind the anchor, blocking off access to a large park.

"For those of you just tuning in, I am here live at the scene of a gruesome murder in upstate Manhattan, where kingpins from several major gangs in the city have been brutally massacred. Their... body parts... were removed with what seems to be a katana, and the arms and legs were laid out to spell a word: STRANGE. After having asked several police captains here, at the meeting point for four distinct police districts, none of them know what the message means, nor what it has to do with the gangs. Several bombs have been placed in on the bodies, each prepared to go off if any others are disturbed. The police are struggling to figure out the best way to prevent the destruction that would follow, since underneath this park runs several major gas lines for the city. Live from Manhattan, this is Stacy-" Pepper shut off the TV.

"Get him here. Call him up, now." She looked grimly at Hawkeye.

"That will not be necessary." Stephen stepped out of his portal which had emerged behind Pepper. His face looked slightly troubled.

Pepper turned to face him.

"What's going on, Stephen? What's his game?" She looked at him intensely. "And what are we gonna do with the bombs?"

"The bombs are being disarmed as we speak, Ms. Potts. Nobody more will be hurt from this debacle." His eye twitched.

"Right, nobody more. Why was anyone hurt? Have you had contact with him?" She waited.

"To be frank, I have no idea why he would send such a... message to me. I have no clue as to what his intentions were. Had those bombs gone off, many civilians would have died. He has always taken great lengths to avoid injuring the innocent."

Pepper shook her head and sat down, woozy. 

"FRIDAY."

"Yes, Pepper?"

"Please call Happy and let him know that I'll have to stay late tonight, and ask if he could make sure Morgan gets to bed by nine."

"Very well."

She turned to Strange.

"Please leave. I don't know what you did to anger him, but if Peter dies because of it..." Tears welled in the corner of her eyes.

"Nothing more will happen to the boy, Pepper."

And with that, Stephen made a portal and went back to the Sanctum...

...where a sword greeted him, cutting slightly into his neck as he stepped through and closed the portal. Strange sighed.

"What was the purpose of that message, Wade? Why did you kill those people?"

Deadpool chuckled darkly, lowering his katana and stepping back.

"I killed no people, only monsters. And I had to get you out of your little castle for a few minutes. So, Strange-" Deadpool pulled out a detonator.

"-answer my question." 

"What effect do you think that will have? This Sanctum has more defenses than you could ever hope to break with detonations."

"That's the rub, Dumbledore. The bombs are hidden in a special surprise spot. And I don't think that would be a fun surprise for Christine Palmer, now, would it?"

Strange's expression darkened. 

"What do you want, Wade?"

Deadpool tossed the ring Strange had given him on the floor.

"Why did you sabotage the ring?"

Strange stared at him blankly, eyebrows tight together.

"What do you mean?"

Deadpool held up the detonator menacingly.

"DON'T FUCK WITH ME STRANGE. I WILL KILL HER."

"I am NOT fucking with you! What happened?"

"The ring! It... possessed me. Made me hurt Peter instead of help him! Now he's practically dead again. Almost nearly! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THE RING?"

Strange waved his hand and the ring fluttered up to him. It felt cold.

"I... I am unsure what you mean. Let me take a look."

He put the ring on his right index finger and shuddered before removing it.

"I see the issue. It's been used too much. Magic is... tricky, at times. It has a price. Using the ring so frequently to try and help Peter made it become an inverse of itself, and instead forced you to hurt the boy. How many times have you used it?"

"Seven times in as many days."

"That is too much. Just give me a minute. I can fix it. But I can only estimate that it will be effective once, _maybe_ twice more at the most." 

The ring floated up and was surrounded by a series of golden strands, which Strange manipulated in very complex ways. After a minute passed, he sighed, and the golden strands vanished.

"There." He handed the ring back to Wade. "That should work. Do try to be more careful."

Deadpool growled at him.

"Maybe next time you hand out a magical item, let the person you're giving it to know about the terms and conditions!"

With that, Deadpool turned towards the door and left.

Before leaving, he shouted at Strange. 

"The bombs are in her closet."

Outside, Neena was waiting for him in her car.

"Figure it out?"

He nodded, sidling into the passenger seat. 

"Let's get out of here before your luck runs out."

She laughed quietly. 

" _Please_. My luck will _never_ run out."


	10. The Merc with the Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade dives back into Peter's mind, looking to make it up to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I dedicate this chapter to egg egg, who has given me the motivation to write and post another chapter today, despite having already edited two chapters and written and posted three more. Hope you enjoy!

Wade paced back and forth in Neena's apartment. 

Neena, as per usual, had a pretty ambivalent expression as she watched him.

"Look, dude. Just put the damn ring on and go apologize. You like him, don't you?" She looked at him meaningfully.

"Y- Yeah! Of course I do! I mean, I barely know what he's like, but I'm sure he's just the bestest most wonderfulest cheeriest gooiest scrumdiddlyumptious piece of ass on the planet! But... what was said was so awful. He's completely shut down. I'd almost brought him back..."

Neena sighed.

"Wade, if you almost brought him back once, you can do it again. Tell you what - I'll go ahead and stay in contact with you and the ring while you dive. Might give you enough luck for this to work."

Wade looked at her gratefully, hope lighting up his expression under the mask.

"Let's do this thang."

...

Day Eight

...

Wade shot up, lying amongst the dark, dead grass. Everything was cold, not even the remnants of the tree were present. Wade felt a pang of anger at himself for doing this to the boy.

_I'm back, Peter._

Nothing. 

_Please, Peter. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm not working with that fucking dickwad of a monster. In fact, in two days he'll be facing some special treatment courtesy of my katanas._

Peter appeared in front of him, his back turned to Wade. His scars had worsened, growing red and angry.

_*No he won't.*_

_Well, Petey, he actually will. Two days from now, I'll be killing this douchenozzle. And it will be glorious. And you will be safe._

_*No. You won't kill him.*_

_What makes you say that, hon? I'm from the future, here to rescue you! I'm not working with him, I promise. Please believe me. It wasn't my fault, what I said. I didn't mean it._

_* **It doesn't matter**. You won't kill him. He won't be here.*_

_Well, Petey, I don't know what you mean. He will die, painfully, for what he is doing to you. But maybe you can tell me what you mean?_

Peter never once looked at him.

_*You aren't listening. Just go away.*_

And Wade was gone.

...

He shot up, clawing at his throat. It felt like it had closed up and he couldn't breathe. 

"Wade! Calm down!" Neena tried to grab his hands, but he was moving too desperately. She tried to get a hold on him, to grip his body and slow him down. But he moved too much in his desperation - suffocating to death was severely unpleasant, even for Wade. 

She tried one more time to wrap her arms around him, and he instinctively elbowed her in the solar plexus, luckily avoiding her ribs by centimeters. 

She doubled over, coughing. A fire was lit in her eyes and sat over the man.

She reared her hand up and slapped him. 

He stopped clawing at his throat, taking in a big breath of air.

" _Gaaaaaasp._ How could you do that to me? SLAP ME?"

Neena wasn't impressed.

"Shut up, asshole. Your elbow really hurt. Almost cracked a rib!"

His eyes drooped.

"Sorry."

She huffed.

"Fine. No worries. Now tell me, what happened?"

Wade gave her the rundown. She wasn't happy with the results. 

After he'd finished talking to her, he sighed.

"I'm tired of waiting. We need to go again."

Neena's pulse increased.

"No. You told me what that sorcerer said. We need to give the ring time to cool off."

"I'm DONE, Neena. He needs me. Peter needs me. So either give me some luck and help me, or get out of the way."

Neena wasn't familiar with this side of Wade. She usually only saw the boisterous and obnoxious man-child that encompassed Deadpool.

"Fine. Get ready."

...

Day Nine

...

Wade awoke, fear and sadness pervading his heart.

_Peter! Where are you?_

He heard nothing. The plains stretched for miles, quiet.

_PETER!_

_*You can stop shouting.*_

Peter stood next to Wade, who hadn't even noticed. 

_Oh thank God. Listen, what did you mean when you said he won't be here?_

Peter's eyes got a distant look in them.

A breeze passed by, making the naked Wade shiver.

_*I heard him talking about it, that first day. He was taking every other day off from torturing me himself, and would send in a replacement to pick up the slack. He said that since he owns me now, he'll have plenty of time to do what he wants and still be a hero. He doesn't want me to go a day without suffering.*_

Wade's mouth dropped. 

_No. But... I killed him!_

_*I'm guessing you killed his double. My Master is alive and well.*_

Wade cringed at the mention of Peter calling Beck his "Master."

_He's not your Master, darling. You don't have a master, you aren't anybody's property. Please believe me. Even if he lives, we'll hunt him down together. Spider-Man and Deadpool, teaming up to rid the world of murderers, rapists, and neckbeards!_

Peter seemed to think about this for a second, a distant look in his eyes. He made a decision, turning back to Wade. His skin looked slightly healthier, back on its way to healing. Wade wasn't sure why.

_*I don't believe you.*_

And Wade was gone, yet again.

...

Wade opened his eyes, furious. He quickly briefed Neena about the conversation.

"Neena, I need you to call Weasel. Have him put the feelers out and figure out where Quentin Beck, Mysterio, is now. He is scum. Tell him to use my name - anybody who hides Beck, who doesn't share what they know, will answer to me. Understand?" 

She nodded. If she was surprised by his serious demeanor before this last dive...

She stood up and left the room. Wade got off the ground and sat on the bed, next to Peter.

 _Oh, sleeping spider Please come back. Let's get to know each other, fight some bad guys, eat some tacos and cry at cheesy rom-coms._ _Please._

[Wade, even if he wakes up... he might want nothing to do with you. Especially finding out you kept him from his family.]

{Surprise, surprise. Wade ONCE AGAIN forgot that he's a fuckup who's a burden on everyone and everything around him. Why don't you take you and your ground beef face and bring this cutie home?}

Wade growled.

_That was mean, Yellow. And, White, we don't know how he will feel yet. Maybe, to him, I'm dashing. Then again, I'm not sure anyone could love the man who looks like he spent a year in a washing machine with rocks and nails._

He thought back to Peter's words on the second day.

" _*Scarred, deformed, disgusting.*_ "

{That was good, I'm gonna remember that one.}

[You're such a dick, Yellow.]

{And you, my dear White, are a pussy. I guess we go hand-in-hand.}

_Shut the fuck up. It's time for, what will hopefully be, the last trip into Peter's mind._

[Wade... didn't Strange say that it needed cooldown time? And that, if we were lucky, it _might_ work twice? We don't even have Domino with us, she left to go talk to Weasel.]

{Shut up, White! Let's watch him fuck up yet another person he cares about so I can laugh at him.}

Wade steeled himself, put the ring on, and laid down on Peter's chest while stroking his face.


	11. The Man from the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade takes a dangerous gamble, hoping to bring his Baby Boy out of his catatonic state. Even if it works, will Peter be the same person he was before Beck?

...

Not Day Ten

...

Wade opened his eyes slowly. He felt... strange. Calm. Not fearful, sad, or any of the other daunting emotions Peter had pushed on him all the other times he'd visited.

He sat up, rubbing his neck. 

_What the hell?_

The field was... healthy?

The grass was green and vibrant, dotted with huge fields of brightly-colored flowers. The sun was warm and comforting. There had to be hundreds of trees dotting the landscape of Peter's mind.

_Peter...? Where are you?_

He heard some footsteps behind him, and a hand laid down on his tumor-filled shoulder.

_*Hi Wade.*_

Wade looked up at Peter, shock written across his face.

Peter was... smiling. His skin was healthy and pale as milk. His eyes were bright and shining.

And he was older. No doubt about it. At least in his forties. Silver hairs punctuated the landscape of his head.

_Peter?_

_*That's me. At least, it will be.*_

He chuckled.

Wade stared at him, the shock not having gone away.

_*I love you so much, you amazing man. Just remember that. We... we will go through a lot. I mean, a **fucking** lot. But we always made it through, one way or another.*_

Wade couldn't say anything. This had to be a delusion. The ring must have malfunctioned.

[Uhhhhh, no. Not a delusion. I see it too. And my GOD is Peter a hunk.]

{Bite me off a piece of that sweeeeet ass.}

_*Listen, Wade. I brought you here to make things right. You eventually told me about the ring, so I decided to put it on and make sure you didn't make any dumb mistakes. Like trying to use it three times in one day.*_

He chuckled again. The sound filled Wade's body from his toes to his nose with warmth and love.

_*I hope you're treating him well, White and Yellow. He's about to go through a lot.*_

The voices were shocked. 

{Did... did he just address us?}

_Did you just address my voices?_

Peter nodded.

_*It took me a while to figure out what they were saying to you. Now, I can almost always get the gist of it by reading your reactions. I bet they're silent right now.*_

He cleared his throat.

 _*_ _Look_ _at me, Wade.*_

Wade had taken to staring at Peter's cock, standing right in front of Wade's face. Cut, gleaming, and... rock hard. Wow.

He looked up.

_*Listen, baby. I need you to hear me. You're gonna go through a really... difficult time with me. I'm not going to be myself. I need you to teach me how to be a hero again. I'll hate you for it. But never stop, never give up. I won't want to remember. But I'll need you.*_

He got a sad, almost haunted look in his eyes before shaking it off. He took a deep breath and continued.

_*I'm going to be awful sometimes. Push through it. Because the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow... It's so amazing. You won't believe what the universe has in store for us. Just remember this one thing: I love you. It will take me ages to realize it, and even longer before I express it verbally. Just know that I love you, always and forever. You are the love of my life, and I will **never** regret a single thing that's happened to me. It brought me to you.*_

He smiled, tears in both his and Wade's eyes. 

He shuddered.

_*We are out of time, love. My spider-senses are tingling.*_

Wade finally snapped out of his daze and gesturing at Peter's cock.

_I bet they are!_

Peter laughed.

_*No matter how often you say that joke, it never gets old. I love you.*_

_I... I lo-_

And Wade was gone.


	12. The Spirit in the Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade has a lot to think about, and even more to get done. But he thinks he has a real motivation to do it all to the best of his ability.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I'm not sure about the last chapter. I'm not sure if it belongs in the story, or that it makes a whole lot of sense. But it's there, it's canon, let's move on!

Wade opened his eyes. The ring didn't burn. He slipped it off, examining it in-depth. There was an inscription he'd never bothered to read before.

_Amare Aeternum_

_I wonder what that means._

"Mmmmmmmm."

Wade stopped. His heart was pounding so hard, he thought it might actually burst again.

"Where...?"

The voice was Peter's.

Wade looked up from the ring to see Peter's face.

"Peter?" Wade askeed, hardly daring to think that this is real. He removed his hood, needing to see this without anything in between to make sure this wasn't a hallucination.

Peter stared at him, groggy and downtrodden. His voice cracked horribly at the single question. It sounded like he hadn't spoken in years. His hazel eyes looked over at Wade, and his mouth slowly fell open. 

"You..." 

Wade's heart was beating so fast it hurt.

_Does he remember me?_

"You have..."

{...disgusting skin. A foul complexion. Ground beef for face.}

[You're a dick.]

"...beautiful eyes."

With that, he closed his eyes. That seemed to be all the energy he could muster.

_Did that really just happen?_

_Does he... he thinks my eyes are beautiful?_

{Evidently, you brought him back blind. Dumbass.}

[I mean, he isn't wrong. Your eyes are a startling blue.]

_I can't believe it. It can't be real. He's back, and he thinks my eyes are beautiful!_

Wade glanced at Peter. Even exhausted and asleep, he already had more life than Wade could have hoped for. 

He lied down on Peter's chest.

"Oh, my Baby Boy. Thank Thor. You're home at last."


	13. The Friends with the Report

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's awake! What will happen next, hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm?????????????????????

Wade woke up, gasping. The front door had just shut, and two sets of footsteps were making their way to him. He reached under Peter's pillow, grabbing Beatrice. She was a pistol he tasked with watching over Peter.

Gotta be prepared, after all.

He aimed it at the door as it creaked open.

A hand reached in and turned on the light.

The next second, Weasel was screaming as Wade kicked the door shut on his arm.

_Oops._

"WADE! WHAT THE FUCK!" He started crying, nursing his injured arm. There was a quickly-developing bruise on his arm.

Neena, seeing that it wasn't a serious injury, got a gleam in her eye.

"Lucky for me you went first."

Weasel looked at her, hurt in his eyes.

She ruffled his hair.

"Sorry about that Weez! I guess you should have made yourself known before trying to sneak up on the world's greatest mercenary!" Wade laughed heartily.

Neena stared at him, looking mildly curious

"You seem to be in a much better mood. Did something happen?" Neena asked.

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you. Hell, I don't believe it, since most things I see aren't even real anyway! But that doesn't matter - Peter's back! He's awake!"

Weasel, still clutching his arm, stared pointedly at the sleeping boy.

"He don't look all that awake to me, Wade."

Wade slid Beatrice back under Peter's pillow. 

"Shut up, prick. He's not catatonic any more! He's sleeping now, but he said something to me!"

"What did he say?" Asked Weasel.

"It was... personal. It doesn't matter. Let's take the conversation out into the living room. Peter needs his sleep."

They walked out to the living room. Wade sat down on his (frankly disgusting) couch, Cheeto dust flying in the air as he settled down. Neena and Weasel purposely avoided the cloud of dust, preferring a couple of armchairs.

"So, why are you here, Weez? Something up?" Wade asked, looking curiously at the injured man.

Weasel sighed, resting his arm down lightly.

"Yeah. I got in touch with my contacts. We haven't been able to locate this Beck just yet, but we know he took a flight to LAX, then went to Europe. We'll find him."

Wade nodded.

"Anyone give you trouble?"

Weasel shook his head.

"Once your name came up, the information came pouring in. I even got a few photos of the bastard."

He showed them to Wade. It was Beck all right, nervously walking through an airport. 

_Damn right you should be nervous. I'm coming you sick son of a bitch._

"Thanks Weasel. I appreciate it." He turned to Neena. "Thank you too, for reaching out to him while I was... indisposed."

Neena nodded.

"Happy to help. You two are free to stay here as long as you'd like. I doubt the boy will be ready right away to head on home."

Wade nodded sadly.

"Thank you, Dom. Now, I've had a long fucking day, I'm gonna get some shut-eye. If he wakes up or needs anything, let me know."

Neena nodded again.

Weasel tried to whisper in her ear, as if Wade wasn't gonna listen in.

"So, can we go try the-"

She cut him off with a whisper.

"Yes." She looked at Wade as he laid down.

"Goodnight Wade. Pleasant dreams."


	14. The Man with the Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter actually involves Peter lol.

By God, was Neena right. His dream was pleasant indeed.

In it, he was naked and tied to the bed. Had a ball gag in his mouth. If he didn't he would've been commenting on _just how damn sexy_ Peter was as he made his way to the bed. 

Peter only wore a pair of lacy black underwear, which highlighted everything in the right way. He turned around, looking at something in the distance, and Wade practically came right there. 

_That ass... Damn, Baby Boy. You can do whatever you want to me with that ass. Suffocate me with it. Fuck._

Peter giggled.

"Don't mind if I do."

He crawled onto the bed, slowly stripping himself of his underwear. His hard cock bounced in front of Wade's face, showering him with droplets of precum. He was in heaven.

Peter smirked down at him.

"Hope you're ready, Daddypool."

He stood up on the bed, and turned around. 

His two thick globes glistened in the firelight. They got closer and closer as Peter bent his knees.

"Here I come, Wade..."

"...Wade."

"WADE!"

He jerked up, in the midst of an emission in his pants.

"What's going on?!" 

Neena stood over him, a blanket wrapped around her, fear etched across her face.

"It's Peter!"

He shook the sleep from his head and heard the screaming.

_Oh no._

He rushed into Peter's bedroom. Peter was shouting and thrashing, clawing at his ankles. His feet were twisted up in the sheets.

"Peter, please stop! I'm right here. Just hold on!"

Wade approached the foot of the bed, and Peter stared in horror at him.

"NO! NO! STOP! GET AWAY FROM ME! WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

Peter screamed, sobbing. Tears flowed down his cheeks heavily.

Wade struggled to get a hold on Peter's legs, he was thrashing so heavily. Finally, he wrapped his right arm around both of Peter's legs, and used his left hand to untangle Peter's legs.

He was so involved with getting the sheets off his boy's legs that he didn't see the fist flying towards his face.

...

Uggghhh.

Uggggggghhhhhhh.

UGGGGGHHHHHH.

Wade rubbed his nose, blood pouring out of it like a faucet.

_That really fucking hurt._

It wasn't long before the blood finally stopped and Wade could feel his healing factor taking full effect. When his head finally stopped throbbing, he looked up at Peter.

The boy was aghast, pale and horrified. Blood splattered his clothes, sheets, fist, and face.

"Oh my God. OH MY GOD." He started hyperventilating, his hands shaking violently. It looked like he was collapsing into a fit, almost as if he were having a seizure.

Wade leapt up, taking a second to let his balance reacclimate, then went and scooped Peter up into his arms and held him close.

"It's all right, little spider. I'm here. I'm not hurt, I promise. I'm okay. Please calm down for me, take nice slow breaths."

Wade's voice was gentle. It took a solid minute, but Peter's breath finally started to slow and the shaking stopped. 

He was still sobbing, and leaned into Wade's wide chest. 

"I'm sorry! Please forgive me!" 

Wade just held him tighter, inadvertently covering him in more blood.

"No no, hon. There's nothing to forgive. Please. I'm right here, you don't need to worry."

As he coddled Peter, Neena stuck her head into the room. She paled slightly at the sheer amount of blood, as well as the nice indentation in the wall from where Wade had been thrown into it.

Wade talked really quietly, as Peter's sobs finally began to slow.

"What time is it?"

Neena responded softly.

"It's almost eight in the morning. Want me to get some breakfast?" 

He nodded. She closed the door and left the apartment, pulling a very sleepy Weasel after her.

"Oh, you poor boy. Don't you worry one bit." He slowly walked into the en-suite bathroom.

Peter whimpered and hiccupped against his chest, thankful that the man was okay. He looked up at him. 

His hand, without thinking, reached up and brushed the man's jawline. It was very rough, but the texture was so fascinating. All the indentations gave his fingers something to play in. Soon he was no longer crying, just mesmerized by the handsome man's skin. Wade noticed and cursed himself out for forgetting his mask. He didn't like to sleep with it on, if he could help it. Neena and Weasel both knew what he looked like, so he wouldn't have been as ashamed if they had seen him.

"I'm sorry about that. I didn't have time to put on my mask before seeing you. It might be best if you just closed your eyes until we're done."

Peter's brow furrowed slightly and his fingers dropped. What was he apologizing for?

Wade strode into the bathroom, clutching Peter to his chest. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and turned the nozzles, getting a nice, heated bath going.

"All right, Peter. I'm gonna set you down-" Peter whimpered, sinking into Wade's grip further.

"-and let you take a bath to get all this blood off you. Do you need any help, or can I go clean up the room?"

Peter stared into Wade's eyes. 

God, they were beautiful. A sizzling, electric blue. They were made even more beautiful with all the concern that he felt pouring out of them.

Peter shook his head, and gently reached for the tub. The water was nice, if a bit hot.

Wade nodded, and slowly set Peter down in the tub, bloodied Hello Kitty pajamas and all. He quickly left the room, returning seconds later with a black trash bag.

"You can put your clothes in here when you're done. I'll leave a change of clothes outside the door. Take your time."

He shut the water off, set the trash bag open on the ground, and gave Peter one last, soft look.

_God, you're gorgeous._

He turned and left, shutting the door.


	15. The Boy in the Bath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter, calmed down after his hysterics, begins the slow process of working through what happened to him.

Peter sat in the warm water. He finally fully calmed down. 

_I didn't mean to hurt him like that._

_Oh God. He probably hates me._

_Was he the one who saved me?_

Tears welled in his eyes again, but he remembered what he was supposed to be doing.

He slowly unbuttoned the bloody shirt, peeling it off and wringing it out as best he could before he placed it in the bag. His arms and core felt stiff and awkward. He wondered how long it had been since they had gotten real exercise.

The water was already changing color from the blood, and Peter felt much cleaner without the shirt.

Next, he started shimmying out of his Hello Kitty pants, but came to a disturbing realization.

_I'm wearing a diaper._

_Why am I wearing a diaper?_

Suddenly, he stopped what he was doing, his eyes glazing over.

...

_What did I do to deserve this?_

It felt like the machine ran for days, milking everything out of him and crushing, eventually bursting, his balls. Some part of him in the back of his mind hoped his healing factor was good enough to restore those. The rest of him was hoping against hope that he would be rescued, that at any moment Pepper or May would walk in, scoop him up, and take him back to safety.

_Where did I go wrong?_

But it was his fault. Tony was right. If he hadn't persuaded Tony to bring the calculations over to the rest of the team, he might still be alive today. With his wife and daughter. And Peter.

The words had haunted him ever since the final battle against Thanos.

_"But would you be able to rest?"_

He sobbed, his mouth gagged with the dildo. He was in so much pain. The machines finally started detaching from his body, leaving him cold, abused, and hurting.

The most unpleasant removal was the nubbed butt plug. They didn't bother to bring the nubs back in, so it pulled out slowly and excruciatingly painful as each nub stretched out his abused asshole. 

When it was fully out, he felt his ass warm slightly. 

_Healing factor._

He lay on the bed, arms and legs outstretched, as he stared up at the bright lights. Were they bright enough to blind him? So that he wouldn't have to see Tony's ghost again?

He sighed slightly. He was being searched for. Everyone had to be looking. He wouldn't be here much longer.

He couldn't be. He already felt like he'd been there for days.

That's when he heard something else. A few mechanical hands came down, holding a white... thing.

They finally got into full view, and Peter realized what that was. A diaper.

A new set of hands reached down, grabbed his buttocks, and lifted him off the bed enough for the diaper to be slid underneath him. 

The hands set him down, and brought the diaper up and over his shriveled dick and mushy balls, pain sparking through him. They strapped him in, and he felt something odd happen to the diaper. It felt like it was hardening at all of the edges. Maybe to prevent leakage. 

But he was starving and dehydrated. The plus side of that being, at least he wouldn't have to be forced to use the diaper if he had no food or drink in his system.

A voice came on over an intercom.

"Okay, Mister Parker. Get ready for your meal. This is all you're having until tomorrow."

The voice cut out, and Peter looked around anxiously.

_What will I be eating?_

As he thought that, some hands brought down a jar of some kind, with a funnel attached to it.

_What the hell is that?_

Some hands lifted his head and removed the gag.

Peter coughed, gasping. He hadn't realized just how much the dildo had been violating his throat. He felt it warm as the cuts healed up.

But it wasn't over yet. The jar lowered until the funnel was right above his mouth.

"Open wide, or we'll force you to do it. Don't make us break your teeth, Mister Parker."

Peter's eyes widened, his heart pounding. He shakily opened his mouth, and the funnel slowly settled in his mouth.

That's when he felt a compulsion to seal his lips around the funnel. It's like he couldn't control them. How were they doing this?

And that's when the jar released its contents.

Peter knew what it was the moment it started gushing into his mouth. He choked and gagged, but couldn't open his lips away from the funnel.

"I suggest you drink the cum. Either drink or drown, Mister Parker. Your choice."

And so he drank.

...

_Knock. Knock. Knock._

"Peter! Are you doing okay in there?"

Wade said this through the door, worry lacing his voice. Peter had been in there for a half hour now, and Wade didn't hear any movement in the bathroom.

"Please answer me, Peter! Are you okay?"

He heard a soft moan, followed by sobs. He quickly opened the door, and saw Peter holding himself and shaking, crying. His shirt was in the garbage bag, his pants past his knees.

Wade's eyes followed Peter's gaze, aiming right at the diaper around his waist.

_Fuck. I forgot about that._

"Oh boy. I'm so sorry. We... we had to use the diaper. You weren't conscious, and I wanted to keep your bed nice and clean for you."

His voice sounded slightly different through his mask than it did without it. He turned and looked at the stripped bed, bloody sheets bundled up in a laundry basket. Wade had been picking up everything in the bedroom while Peter sat in the tub.

"Guess that didn't do a whole lotta good. Do you want some help?"

Peter's lip trembled. He slowly nodded, face blushing. He was ashamed, but couldn't move his arms. He had cum in the diaper while thinking back to his torture.

_What is wrong with me?_

Wade cooed and removed Peter's pants, wringing them out and tossing them in the trash bag. 

"Okay, Peter. I'm gonna remove the diaper now. If you need me to stop, just say so." He waited for a moment, hesitating, before continuing.

He reached up to Peter's hips and removed the straps. He wrapped an arm around Peter's chest and lifted him slightly, using the other hand to grab the diaper and pull it out from under the boy.

Into the trash bag it went.

Some bits of absorptive diaper material floated in the rust-colored water.

Wade grabbed a washcloth, and slowly wiped Peter clean. He grabbed a cup, and used it to wet Peter's hair, and then rubbed him off with the wash cloth. He scrubbed at the boy's face, trying to remove the dried blood without hurting him.

Peter hardly noticed what was going on.

_How could I cum from that? How could they do that to me? What's wrong with me?_

Wade finished wiping Peter down, and pulled the plug on the drain. Just as he did this, he heard the front door open. Neena and Weasel were back, hopefully with food.

"Just give me a moment, Pete."

Wade stood up and left the room, saying something quietly to Neena and Weasel that Peter didn't even try listening in on. He returned and closed the door to the bathroom, pulling the fresh change of clothes in with him.

"Let's finish getting you cleaned, bub."

And so he did. He ran some fresh water to make sure all the blood was gone. Then he grabbed some soap and put some of the liquid on the cloth so he could scrub under Peter's arms and in his groin and butt.

Wade tried his damnedest not to get hard at this.

{You're sick.}

_I'm doing my best here. He needs to stay clean, and can't do it himself yet._

{That doesn't explain why you have a woody. Fucking pervert.}

 _Nobody asked you_.

Wade finished rinsing Peter off, then took a hold of the boy's hands and tried to stand him up. It seems Peter just didn't have the energy, or the capability.

He sighed.

"It's okay, darling. I got you."

He grabbed a towel, and used it to scoop Peter up into his arms again. He went and sat on the lid of the toilet, doing his best to scrub Peter dry all over, and to not let his erection touch him at all.

_Fuck. I really am a monster._

He slid a pair of white briefs on Peter. They were Wade's, so they were a couple sizes too large for the boy. Same for the sweatpants and white, v-necked shirt. This was his civvies for when he was completely alone.

Once Peter was fully dressed, Wade stood up and carried him out into the living room. He sat him down in an armchair. Weasel and Neena couldn't help but stare.

Wade looked at Peter sadly, before turning to the couple.

"What did you get?"

Neena gestured to the counter, where she had laid out the foodstuffs they had gotten. Oatmeal, fruit, some pastries, and yogurt. He nodded.

"Weez, do you mind helping Peter get some food and water in him while I finish cleaning up the room and myself?"

Weasel nodded.

"Yeah, no worries man. I got it."

Wade left, shutting the bedroom door. Weasel and Neena did their best to pretend they didn't hear the Merc with a Mouth, Wade Wilson, mercenary and hitman extraordinaire, start sobbing quietly in the room and scolding himself.

Weasel stood up, grabbed some yogurt, and walked over to Peter. He sat on the coffee table, opened the container, and grabbed a spoon.

"So, uh... I'm gonna feed you now, kid. If that's okay."

Peter didn't acknowledge him.

"Okay. Cool."

He dipped the spoon in the yogurt and took out a well-portioned amount of strawberry yogurt. He brought the spoon up to Peter's lips and lightly poked them, leaving yogurt sticking to his lips. He did it again, brows furrowing. 

Neena sighed. She walked over and sat next to Weasel.

"Just let me."

He nodded, unsure what to do.

She grabbed the spoon, took a gentle hold of Peter's jaw, and opened his mouth as best she could. She pushed the spoon in and pulled it out, curving it on the roof of his mouth so as to try and leave yogurt there.

She pulled out the spoon, streaks of yogurt and spit decorating it. She gave Peter a concerned look, but finally sighed as she saw his jaw move slightly as he moved the yogurt around his mouth and eventually swallowed. Neena picked up a napkin and wiped his lips clean.

"Thank God." Weasel said.

Neena looked at him.

"Think you can continue?"

He nodded, and she handed him the spoon back and stood up.

As the yogurt went down Peter's throat, he grimaced. It was sweet and tasty, but the texture was... too familiar.

"Uhhh, I don't think he liked that." Weasel said.

Neena frowned. 

"Try the oatmeal. Maybe he doesn't like yogurt."

She went and got a cup and a straw, filling the cup with cool water from the fridge.

Meanwhile, Weasel grabbed the oatmeal, got a spoonful of it, blew it off until it was a good temperature, and mimicked Neena's feeding technique.

Peter ate it, and didn't grimace. The warmth soothed his raw throat.

"Yeah, that did the trick." Weasel sighed.

They continued feeding him oatmeal, with Neena bringing over the water and watching him slowly but surely sip at it through the straw.

Progress.

Wade finished up in the shower and came out to the living room. It seemed he had just stepped in with his full outfit on, rinsing off the blood. He looked very damp.

He saw them feed Peter the oatmeal and water. He held a garbage bag in one hand, a laundry basket full of bloody sheets in the other.

Neena looked up at him.

"You can set those down by the door. I'll take care of them later." Wade nodded and did so. 

He walked over to Neena and Weasel. Neena stood up and took Wade's arm, leading him into the kitchen. 

"Listen, Wade. He is _not_ okay. He is suffering, in pain. The boy can hardly open his mouth to eat." 

Wade stared at her, waiting for her to finish. A vein bulged slightly in his forehead.

"I... I don't know how much help we are gonna be here. He is in a serious amount of grief, and is clearly suffering from PTSD. He needs professional help." 

Wade was about to retort, and tell her to keep her damn mouth shut about him if she knew what was good for her, when they heard a small "No."

Wade stopped, turning to Peter. 

He had turned his head, looking at the pair of them out of the corner of his eye. Weasel looked shocked.

Wade briskly walked over to him and got on his knees, looking at Peter in the eyes.

"What did you say, darling?"

_Beautiful eyes._

"No. Want to stay." Wade smiled and nodded, giving him a strong hug. Peter appreciated the warmth.

"Okay, Baby Boy. As you say. I'll take care of you, whatever you need. We'll get you better. My name is Wade. This is Weasel-" first he gestured towards Weasel, then at Neena.

"-and Neena. She's a lucky lady." Weasel laughed. Neena rolled her eyes.

Peter nodded. 

"Peter." 

Wade beamed.

"Yes, hon. We know. I was hired to find you, and save you. We'll get you back up to working shape before you see your family. I promise you that."

Peter looked down solemnly, doubting if he would ever be in working shape again.

"Sleep."

Wade nodded. He scooped him up in his arms, cradling Peter close. Peter leaned his head against Wade's chest, breathing in his musky scent. It was amazing.

"Neena, can I...?" 

She nodded.

Wade brought Peter into her room, and laid him down on her freshly-made king-sized bed. This, however, was not the right move. Peter instantly froze, terror filling his eyes. 

Wade saw this and picked him up instantly, squeezing the boy and stroking his hair.

"I'm sorry, Pete. I didn't think. Come on, we'll get you set up on the couch.

The look of terror in his eyes faded. He couldn't respond or move, but hoped Wade got the message that that was okay.

Wade sat Peter back in the armchair for a minute while he cleaned up the couch, scooping up handfuls of taco wrappers and chip bags, brushing Cheeto dust onto the floor. Neena grimaced slightly at this.

He threw the trash away and moved Peter to the couch. He went and stole a pillow, setting it beneath the boy's head. 

He turned to head to the kitchen to grab a broom, but heard a small moan. He looked at Peter, worry written across his face.

Peter held up an arm very slightly, reaching for Wade.

He nodded, smiled, and went and sat next to Peter on the couch. He moved the boy's arm back down and started stroking his hair, gloves moving as gently as possible against his fragile skin.

"You're safe now, Peter. Safe at last."


	16. The First of the Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter is finally awake! Now Wade has to think about the best way to help the injured boy. After all, what did he know about becoming sane?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO DARLINGS. I am VERY VERY EXCITED about the update I just made to the previous chapters. The older chapters especially have changed a lot more than I was anticipating, but I think it's all for the better. 
> 
> My birthday is in two days! Gonna be 21! Looking forward to that.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story, and as always, comment comment comment! It makes my day.

Wade tried to get up several times that day. He wanted to give Neena a hug for her help thus far, and slap Weasel on the back in a friendly-but-threatening way as he likes to. He wanted to help clean the Cheeto dust, and maybe try venturing back out in the world so he can find a gift for Peter, to show him how much he appreciates Peter being here. 

But he simply couldn't. Peter was gripping his arm with both hands, cuddling with it. His other hand was stroking Peter's hair, and he couldn't work himself up to leave the silky-smooth mop of brown hair alone. 

{Good God, Wilson! Get ahold of yourself! It's not like this is gonna last. He'll wake up, finally realize how butt-ugly you are, and leave.}

[Truth be told, even if he thought that, I don't think he has the strength to leave.]

Wade sighed sadly. Both of them were right.

Peter was recovering his strength, but outside of that punch he had thrown at Wade, he hadn't shown any everyday strength or the ability to move significantly. It had him worried.

_How am I going to help him get better? What the hell can this ugly mug do for a gorgeous little spider like him?_

[You could try just talking with him. Get him to open up.]

Yellow's sarcasm was thick. {Yeah, let's get the traumatized spider talking about what's bugging him. I wonder what he'll say? "Thanks for asking, Wade! The rape was great!"}

They bickered back and forth, Wade trying to ignore them. 

He sat like this for several hours, all the way through to the afternoon. No thoughts occurred to him. White kept throwing out ideas, and Yellow kept smacking them down and insulting Wade in the process.

_~Maybe this isn't a Wade problem, hmm? Maybe it's a Deadpool problem! Let Daddypool join in on the fun!~_

Wade shuddered. He really hated when Deadpool manifested as a separate entity. It had been useful, whenever he went on missions he could take a backseat and let that side of him take the reins. But now, it was simply another voice in his head.

"No, Pool. We're gonna keep this a Wade problem." 

He could already tell this would be a long day.

However, at that moment, Peter started stirring, and Wade's heart leapt to his throat.

_~Here we go. Don't get your panties in a twist.~_

Peter's eyes fluttered open, slowly blinking to get rid of the blurriness. He then looked at his hands, seeing that he was holding onto Wade's arm. 

He looked up at Wade, his face very... neutral. His eyes were more expressive, showing pain and confusion.

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead! I hope you slept well!"

Peter stared at him.

"So... uh... how you doin'?"

More staring.

"Right, that's a dumb question. I mean, why would anyone ask that question to someone who- I mean, um, like, that's a pretty boring question to ask someone. It's not like people actually want to know how you're doing, or at least that has been my experience. Not to say that you and I have the same experiences, I wouldn't want to demean you like that. I bet everyone who asks you how you're doing means it. I did, but I don't know if you even heard me, cause we've met before but you didn't remember and do you remember me now? Cause I spoke a lot with you in your dreams, or I guess I should say nightmares, but- you don't want to talk about that, I bet. God, is it getting hot in here, or is it just me?"

Wade realized that he was rambling and saying all the wrong things, and he and Yellow scolded himself for it. 

Peter just kept staring. But his eyes seemed to betray just a little bit more than pain and confusion. Maybe... humor? Understanding? Enjoyment? Wade couldn't be sure.

"So, do you want some food? I can get you something? I'm kinda _persona non grata_ right now and whatnot thanks to your Avengers buddies, but I could place a delivery order and have some food brought here and left at the front door. Is there anything you might want? Chinese, Indian, Mexican, burgers, pizza, coffee, Mexican, candy, Heroin, weed, Mexican..." 

He stared at Peter, getting really unnerved at this point. Wade sighed.

"I'm sorry. Can we start over? My name is Wade, also known as Deadpool. I'm a mercenary, a doer-of-things-for-money. I was hired by a Pepper Potts to find you and rescue you. You were being held by an evil son-of-a-bitch in a Stark Industries' bunker in the Rocky Mountains." 

Peter's eyes filled with hurt at that realization. How could Pepper not realize he was in one of the Stark Industries' properties? Why hadn't she checked?

Wade saw this change in his eyes.

"...what's up, buttercup? I'm sorry if I said something wrong, I promise I was just trying to let you know who I am so you're not scared. I don't want you to be scared. All I want is to get you back up on your feet and see you to being the Amazing Spider-Man once more! After all, how could I go on knowing I didn't help my most favoritist hero in the world when he needed it?"

Peter wasn't looking at him any more. The mention of his alter-ego hurt him. 

"Not any more."

Wade stopped breathing, the voices stopped too. They had a running commentary going on how he was doing in the conversation, and Yellow felt like it was at the point that Wade should jump out the window.

"Uh... what do you mean, Petey? What's not any more?"

They both stared for a long time, Wade looking at Peter and Peter looking anywhere but into the white, masked eyes that were deceptively expressive.

He didn't say anything, so Wade repeated the question, and told Peter he would wait for an answer. Peter's grip on Wade's arm tightened as tears filled his eyes.

"Spider-Man. Done."

Wade felt a horrible wave of nausea pass through him. He leapt up and ran to the kitchen, yanking his mask off and emptying the fruit and pastries he had eaten that morning into the sink. 

Peter looked at the man, eyes wide. He hadn't expected that reaction.

"Wrong?" He mumbled in Wade's direction, his eyebrows close together in confusion.

Wade continued retching for a minute or two, taking long deep breaths in between his fits. Finally, it seemed like it was all out of his system, and he turned on the sink to rinse his vomit out.

He stood up once the sink was clean, gasping, tears streaking down his face.

He looked at Peter, blue eyes wallowing in misery.

"Oh, Pete... Nothing's wrong, I just... I can't..." He drifted off, staring out the window.

Peter waited, staring.

Wade continued.

"I can't... I can't forgive myself."

Now Peter was really confused.

"What?"

Wade took several more deep breaths, and walked back over to the couch, sitting down next to Peter with his mask in his hands. He realized he hadn't put it back on after vomiting and quickly slid it on.

"Sorry kid. I don't want you to throw up too! Too much of that going around," he joked. It was a small joke, and he tried to laugh feebly at it. Peter's gaze didn't waver. Wade sighed.

"Listen... I'm responsible for you right now, Pete. I'm helping, because I've been where you are and worse. Because I've been there, and didn't have anyone. And I didn't want that for you. Especially not for Spider-Man! I mean, you're my hero. I have killed a lot of people, Pete. More than I can remember. Most were guilty, horrible people who were scum of the earth and should never have chosen to exit their mother's hoo-ha. But... not all. Some have been caught in the cross-fire, and it's my fault. If only I'd been more prepared. If only I'd had a better plan, like Spider-Man! He always has a plan, he doesn't let innocent people get caught in the cross-fire. But I did the same thing with you. I had no idea who you were, no idea what I was doing, but I took some magic from a sorcerer and entered your brain-hole trying to get you to realize you weren't alone, that it wouldn't last forever, that someone cared. And I succeeded. You're back. You're conscious, and you don't know how elated that made me feel, because finally, for once in my life, I did some good. I brought the world Spider-Man back! But instead, I broke him. I did it wrong. I went too fast, without a plan, and may have cost the world the best hero its' ever had."

He looked at his feet, ashamed.

"And I'm immortal. Which means I get to live for the rest of eternity bearing the death of Spider-Man on my shoulders. And the thought of that is nothing less than sickening."

Wade stopped, trying to wipe his tears behind his mask.

White and Yellow were silent, shocked.

[Well... Damn.]

{I don't even think there's anything to add onto that to make it worse. He's right. Window time!}

Peter tried to move. Wade let out a small, shuddering sob. Obviously, the boy wants to get away from him. And why shouldn't he?

But that wasn't it.

Peter summoned up as much strength as he could, and wrapped his arms around Wade.

Wade stiffened. What?

"What... what are you doing, Petey?"

"Hugging you."

Wade laughed a little, choking out a small sob with it.

"Well, I feel that Pete. What I mean is, why?"

"Like you."

Wade never thought two little words could so easily bring him from suicidal to being glad he was alive. Even if Peter wised up and eventually realized the truth behind Wade's words, at least right now he could cherish the warmth emanating from Peter's touch. And try to hide the erection that quickly followed it. 

Wade coughed loudly, startling Peter slightly and making him lose his grip, falling back to the couch. Wade stood up quickly, face blushing under the mask, and scooted away to the bathroom so that Peter wouldn't see his little problem.

Wade slammed the bathroom door shut, freeing himself from his pants. Only a few quick jerks took him to his peak, and he couldn't stop the lustful moan that escaped from his mouth as he coated his suit in cum.

Peter heard Wade through the bathroom door. His super-hearing might not be back up to par, but it didn't require super powers to hear Wade as he came.

Peter guiltily looked down at his arms. He hadn't meant to do that. He didn't want Wade to think of him like that. He wanted Wade to save him, wanted Wade to be there for him and give him a reason to get off the couch. But he didn't think he could stand anything remotely sexual right now, maybe not ever. He tried to avoid thinking about any specifics, but, needless to say, it threw him down deep into a depression with a vengeance.

All of his body weight collapsed on the couch, his eyes glazing over. As Wade cleaned himself up and fought with White and Yellow over whether Peter heard what happened or not, Peter fell into his nightmares, waking back up on that simple white bed, held down by those awful hands.


	17. The Nightmare on the Couch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter falls into a depression and is thrown back into the torture. Will he ever really be free?
> 
> Also, the chapter where Wade battles within himself to find a solution to Peter's new problem.

Peter opened his eyes slowly.

_Where am I?_

He wondered why it was so dark, Neena's apartment always had a light on. Wade didn't like to sleep in the dark. It was something he remembered from a faint, distant memory, something muttered to him when he was sleeping.

That's when the lamps flashed bright, and he realized he wasn't in Neena's apartment. He wasn't with Wade.

He was back.

He started hyperventilating and trying to get up, but he was too weak. He was being held down on the large, white bed by several mechanical hands, just as he was before.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God no! Where's Wade?! Where is he?!_

His breathing became ragged. He couldn't take this.

"Welcome back, Peter. Good to see you. We'll have plenty of fun, don't you worry."

_NO!!!!_

Tony's voice was back. _Not again, not again, please! Please just let me go, God!_

"And why would I do that?" Tony stepped into view, an evil expression on his face. One that's haunted him since his first day arriving at this personal Hell.

"After all, we really do make just the best of companions. And besides-" His image shifted, melting into the form of an unknown man.

"-I will always be with you, little spider. As long as I am free, you are mine. And you will always be mine."

...

Peter's eyes shot open, his heart pounding. He couldn't breathe. He clawed at his throat, drawing blood with his super-human strength activating.

"W-" He tried. He had so little breath left. He had to try again.

"WADE!"

And in an instant, Wade was there. He scooped Peter into his arms and squeezed him, swaying, saying everything he could to calm the boy down.

"It's okay, Peter! I'm here, Baby Boy. Please just breathe!" As he said this and used his right arm to support the fragile boy, he used his left hand to stop Peter's hands from scratching at his bloodied throat. It was a hassle, and Wade felt like his hand may have a few fractures from trying to fight the boy's super strength.

"Come on, Baby Boy, please breathe! I've got you, I'm right here! You're safe, I promise! Please!" 

Peter finally started to hear him. Before that last "I'm right here," everything sounded as if he were underwater, his vision started to blacken around the edges. But hearing Wade's voice, knowing he wasn't in that Hellhole any more...

He breathed a deep, full-bodied breath that sorted out his vision and slowed his heartbeat.

Wade was practically on the verge of crying under his mask.

"Oh my God. You're okay! You're fine! Please, Peter, I'm here! I'm here." He cuddled Peter, pulling him tightly against Wade's suit.

Peter chugged in air, tears falling down his face.

{God, these two are a couple of crybabies.}

[Shut up, dick! Go through what they have and see if you can stop from crying.]

{Eh, I'm a disembodied voice. I don't have the pleasure of worrying about something like rape.}

[You're evil.]

{And you're a cunt.}

_Guys, I'm trying to talk here._

And indeed he was. Wade moved with Peter into the kitchen, still cradling the boy in his arms. He was mumbling at the boy every soothing thing that came to his mind. How Wade would never leave him. How Peter would always be safe with him.

He grabbed a washcloth and put it under warm water, letting it soak. Then, he placed it as gently as he could on Peter's throat. His throat had many deep, bloodied scratches down it, and his nails were something out of a horror movie, blood and skin painting them.

Peter gasped as the cloth met his throat, but it was definitely soothing. As Wade started rinsing his hand under the sink to clean his hands, Peter felt the warming sensation of his healing factor on each scratch. 

His healing factor always felt slightly uncomfortable, like something else was taking over control of that part of his body while he healed. But when it left, Peter was good as new. He was sure that his healing factor was nothing compared to Deadpool's, as Peter seemed to remember Deadpool shooting himself in the head at one point.

At least the mercenary was okay now, and taking care of him.

Once Peter's hands were clean, Wade gently removed the bloodied rag from the boy's neck to set it in the sink. He breathed a sigh of relief at seeing the marks, as they were no longer open, bleeding wounds, but angry scars that were slowly, but surely, fading. They'd be totally gone in maybe an hour or so.

Wade cradled Peter tightly.

"Oh, Peter. I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so glad." 

Wade felt some tears of relief slide down as he went back to the couch and sat down, still holding Peter on his lap. Peter moved his head so that he was resting on Wade's chest, breathing in the smells of gunpowder, blood, salsa - more smells than he might want to know about. 

It smelled good. Oddly comforting. He was safe.

And that's when his sobbing began in earnest, as he remembered what caused this episode. Wade didn't know what to do, since Peter still wasn't really able to tell him how he can help the boy yet. He just pulled him close, rubbing his back as Peter was wracked with sobs. 

"It's okay, hon. It's okay. I'm here. Tell me what happened. Can you do that? Can you tell me what's going on?"

Peter tried to slow his crying by taking deep breaths, but it really didn't seem to have any effect. Wade's eyebrows popped up.

"I got an idea! Let me go grab something." He set Peter down gently on the couch, the boy slowly folding in on himself trying to find comfort.

The mercenary was soon back with a glass of water and scooped Peter right back up.

"There we go, little spider. Have some of this. You can't cry when you drink."

Peter couldn't move his arms, so Wade brought the glass to Peter's lips. It was a... messy endeavour, to say the least. He must have spilled as much on himself and Wade as he had swallowed, but it was enough to let him get his crying under control. Wade smiled at him, setting the glass down.

"There we go, hon. There we go. It's all gonna be all right, I'm gonna stay right here. Now, tell me, please Baby Boy - what happened? Can I help you?"

Peter, tears still streaming from his face, shook his head. He then stopped to think about it, and shrugged slightly. He had no idea if Wade could help.

But he wouldn't find out if he could receive help or not if he didn't tell the man what happened.

He took several steadying breaths, his cheeks and eyes puffy from crying, and told Wade what had happened.

"My dream," Peter managed. Wade nodded.

"What about it, hon?"

He breathed in and out, and continued.

"Bed. Hands. Hell." Wade paled under his mask. He should've thought of this. The dreams. He himself still faced them every night, but with his newly-acquired skill of lucid dreaming they became less awful. But they were still plenty horrible.

"You... you were in the bed, the hands were back. You were in your... Hell... again."

Peter nodded, suppressing a new wave of sobs. He took a deep breath to continue.

"Tony. Then, new man. New words."

Wade thought for a moment before responding, trying to figure out what Peter was saying.

"Tony was there, then he became someone else? And this new man said new words? I'm not sure what you mean, hon."

"Not a memory."

Wade's heart missed a beat. Then two. 

_Oh God._

"Peter, honey, I want to be really clear here. Tony turned into someone else, someone you don't recognize, and he said words to you that you haven't heard in that room? That this dream wasn't a memory?"

Peter nodded, confirming Wade's fears.

He pulled out his work phone, going to his chat with Weasel. He pulled up a photo of Beck with a clear view of his face.

"Peter, Baby Boy... was this the man you saw?" He showed Peter the phone.

Peter's heart stopped. He stopped breathing. His whole body started getting tremors, which soon turned into full-on spasms.

Wade threw his phone down and held the boy tight, as tight as he could. 

Wade was well-versed in the difference between a hyperstimulatory spasm and a seizure. And this was no seizure.

"Let it out. I'm right here. I've got you. I won't let you go. Let it all out, Baby Boy."

And let it out he did. 

It was an odd feeling, these spasms. They weren't as uncontrollable as an eye twitch, but not exactly something he could just stop easily. Trying to stop the spasms was like trying to hold a weight continuously, but Peter was certainly not strong enough to hold anything. So the spasms wracked across his body, spending all excess energy Peter had managed to build up in his rest.

Finally, it slowed to minor tremors in his hands and legs, and inevitably stopped. He was exhausted, but his heart was racing at the thought of falling asleep again.

"Don't want sleep."

Wade nodded, cradling him.

"I know you don't want to sleep, honey. I don't want you to either. But you need to rest, somehow. You don't have enough energy to stand, let alone enough for me to feel as confident as I would need to be to leave you while I go hunting."

He was so tired.

"Hunting?"

Wade hummed his yes. 

"Baby Boy, by my understanding you hadn't ever seen that monster in his own skin while he was talking. Only in the illusion of Tony. And, even if you had, it wasn't a memory. It was new. Which means the man, who is still out there, is somehow able to reach into your dreams and torment you. I'm going to need to hunt him down, flay his skin from his bones, and relinquish any hold this monster has over you. Do you understand?"

Peter didn't know how he felt about this.

He'd always stood in favor of second chances, of rehabilitation. He had fully believed that killing, no matter the reason, was wrong.

But he didn't believe that any more.

He watched as Deadpool tore into one of his tormentors with pleasure on his face (or through his mask, technically). He saw, out of the corner of his eye, everything the mercenary had done to the double. 

He couldn't stop watching.

It... pleased a part of him. He was even... happy, watching the sick fuck who had fueled Peter's nightmares and cause his complete collapse fall victim to a mind even more depraved and sadistic than his.

And Peter could only be grateful to Deadpool for that.

"Understand. Going." Wade cocked his head to the side.

"What do you mean, 'going,' Baby Boy? I'm not going anywhere yet, you aren't well enough to be alone." Peter shook his head.

"When better. Going." Wade was still confused.

"i'm sorry, I really don't understand. Yes, when you are better I am going to go and hunt this fucker down and make him regret the day he ever thought to lay a finger on you. Just like his double regretted it." Peter shook his head again. He consolidated all the strength he had left to say one last thing before he fell asleep again.

"I'm going too." 

Then he was out, snoring lightly in Wade's arms.

[Uhhhhhhhh... What?]

{I'm not sure I heard that right. Did he say that he is going too?}

_No, obviously not. Because he won't be coming. He's gonna stay here when I find Beck._

[He seemed pretty serious though, Wade. Like, serious-serious.]

Wade felt frustration run through his chest, but made sure to set the snoring boy down before retreating to the guest bedroom and quietly shutting the door.

"I don't care if he's _serious-serious_. He isn't going! I won't let him." Wade paced back and forth, anger filling his core.

{Why not, coward? You want him to get better, right? Well, it seems to me that helping kill the man who raped you is pretty fucking therapeutic. Wouldn't you agree?}

"I don't know what you mean, Yellow. He isn't coming." Wade's expression was tight. He hoped Yellow wasn't going there.

{Don't bullshit me, Wade. You know damn well who I'm referring to. Francis.}

Wade stopped. His hands were shaking, his entire body practically _vibrating_ at the mention of that dead asshole.

**_I told you to never say his name again._ **

Yellow shivered slightly, but continued. 

{Wade. Listen to me. I fully understand how you feel. I was there through it all. I know why you keep those feelings tucked away, why Deadpool's the only one who remembers. But you need to remember. You _need_ to remember how _good_ it felt, to slide Bea Arthur in ways you never dreamt of across his flesh. The sounds he made as you removed his genitals and shoved them down his throat. The look he gave as you slowly lowered his skinned body into a vat of salt water and soap. You need to bring up those memories, because that's what Peter needs. He needs that closure.}

It was too much.

[Uh... Yellow? You really need to stop talking. Like, now.]

Wade was gone. Some emotions are too much for a person to handle. In his case, he has three conscious minds to handle it. But it still wasn't enough to try and cope with _every sick thing_ Francis had done to him. For the actual years he spent, locked up in a lab and being systematically tortured, raped, torn apart, all in the hopes of activating some latent mutation.

And by God it had succeeded. It succeeded in birthing Deadpool, Wade's fourth mind. His protector. His warrior. His bringer of death.

Not even Deadpool could handle this rage.

_~YOU STUPID FUCKING YELLOW PIECE OF SHIT. WHY DID YOU BRING HIM UP?! I TOLD YOU TO NOT BRING HIM UP, FOR WADE!~_

Yellow shriveled, cowering in his corner of Wade's mind.

{Look, I get it! I was there, but Peter doesn't have us! He doesn't have you! He needs to exact his revenge! _He needs to kill his Francis._ }

Silence.

It made too much sense.

Simultaneously, the other three minds understood and agreed. 

Wade included.

There was no way he, or anybody, was going to keep Spider-Man - no, Peter - from getting his chance at punishing Beck. Nothing would stop him from giving the boy that opportunity. No matter what it takes.

_It will happen._


	18. An Attempt at an Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Peter awakens again, fresh from a new nightmare, Wade is right there waiting to take care of him. But what's the next step?
> 
> Also, major content warning for when Peter goes into his flashback. Very graphic sexual torture. You've been warned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off, I want to dedicate this chapter to Ruby and o h on. They've really inspired me to keep writing and keep this tale going. I don't want it to be taken lightly - comments truly are one of my favorite things about writing this story. And it doesn't just have to be praise either, feel free to criticise the story and offer suggestions. 
> 
> Also, tomorrow's my 21st birthday! I can't overexpress just how excited I am for it. I hope y'all are doing well and the story isn't shit. XOXO

_God no._

Peter was back.

Back in Hell.

As usual (~ _Ugh, how the hell could this be usual?! Get my Spidey-Babe out of here!~_ ), Peter was being held down to the large white bed by the mechanical arms, bright lights gleaming above.

Quentin Beck stood at the foot of the bed, smiling grotesquely at Peter.

"Good evening, Mister Parker. I hope you slept well?" He chuckled, a sound that made Peter's bones tingle.

He slowly walked over to the side of the bed, sitting down next to Peter.

Peter groaned, trying to move away from his demon.

More chuckling.

"Oh, darling boy. You really think you can escape your bonds? After all, I gave you your chance to escape, don't you remember? That third day you were here, that wonderful third day, I released the hands and let you get as far as your little legs could carry you."

Peter remembered. It wasn't nearly as good of a "chance at escape" as Beck implied.

...

Day Three

...

First, Tony plugged Peter's nose and forced an O-ring into his mouth, making every breath loud and loose. He followed by attaching painful alligator clips to Peter's nipples, connecting them to a chain. This chain extending down to Peter's groin, where the other tortuous device sat. 

We'll start with the vibrator in his ass, which periodically sent electric shocks throughout Peter's frail, starved body. This was attached to the device on his cock. It was a cock cage, with painful needles lining the edge. Any slight movement left Peter's dick in excruciating pain, not to mention how bad it would be if he were to get an erection. Luckily, nothing about this setup was in any way pleasing.

The cock cage, vibrator, and nipple chain were all connected to a metal ring at the base of his cock. To top it all off, Peter's balls were connected to a heavy set of weights that had little impact while he lay on the bed, but would drag them down if he were to stand.

After Peter was situated, Tony popped a blue pill down Peter's throat and forced his hand in front, making the boy swallow it.

And with that, he stepped back, released the mechanical hands, and shouted at Peter to RUN!

He really did try. He used every ounce of super-strength he had in him, sprinting through corridors, trying to rip the ring off of his dick so he could detach the cock cage from his rapidly swelling dick.

He finally crashed to the ground only a few hundred feet from the exit, swollen dick bleeding from at least a hundred needles jabbing into it, balls stretched beyond their natural limits by the weights, ass shaking every few seconds from increasingly frequent and violent shocks, nipples torn from having the clips be torn off on an unfortunately-placed rail, and sobbing loudly through the O-ring, exhausted.

The whole way as he ran towards the exit, security guards, scientists, even janitors were lining the halls and jeering at him, taking photos and videos of Peter's attempt at freedom. It seems they had placed bets on how far Peter would make it, with the few cheers coming out as he collapsed drowned out by shouts of anger and cursing. 

Two security guards had violently yanked Peter up, jostling the whole device and making him scream in agony as they slowly carried him back to his torture chamber. People threw food, garbage, even knives at Peter as he was jostled down the long hallways and stairs, brought right back to the heart of the facility.

Tony was gasping for breath as Peter was thrown back on the bed and the hands grasped him again.

"GOD DAMN, BOY! THAT WAS FUCKING AMAZING!"

His jeers, the videos he forced Peter to watch of his escape attempt from hundreds of angles... It easily was one of the key factors in breaking Peter's spirit in the early days.

...

Beck snapped his fingers in front of Peter's face, jostling him out of his terrible flashback.

"So you _do_ remember! _Wonderful_. I was thinking next time you visited, we'd give you a second chance at escape! What do you say?"

Peter's screams of terror only served to harden Beck's cock in his pants.

...

Wade was there instantly, cuddling the thrashing boy.

His screams pierced the silence of the apartment, as it was nearly five in the morning. Wade was shushing and soothing, doing his best to restrain Peter so he didn't hurt himself. 

Instead, Wade caught a kick to the chest and was thrown into the kitchen table, splintering it and leaving the man dead from a large piece of wood jutting out of his eye.

Peter jumped up wildly, unsure of where he was. He sprinted towards the door, but was tackled by Neena in her night clothes.

She didn't have more than average strength, and would have stood no chance at doing anything except getting severely injured like Wade, had she not been lucky that Peter's burst of strength could only pitch him in the forward direction, leaving his balance and ability to maintain it able to be manipulated easily.

He crashed into the fridge, a fist slamming an inch in front of Neena's face as he landed. That image, of the fist nearly crushing her head, would stay with her for years.

Peter was out cold.

Neena stood up slowly, gasping. She ran to Wade, almost throwing up at the sight of the brain matter skewered on the wooden splint. Luckily, she had a strong enough stomach to get this done.

She put both hands on the splint, which wasn't easy given that it was slick with blood. She put a foot on Wade's chest and yanked, pulling the splint all the way through. 

She collapsed on the ground, sobbing and gagging, as she was showered with blood.

...

It took a couple hours for Wade to open his newly-formed eye. He had a killer headache.

_Whadafu..._

He stared at the mess surrounding him. The shattered table. The pools of blood. The bloody splint of wood. He stood up, terrified, running towards the door of the apartment. Lying on the kitchen floor, still unconscious, was Peter's frail body. He had a massive bruise across his chest and face, and may have had a few cracked ribs, too. Wade, gasping for breath and heart soaring in relief, picked the boy up and quickly brought him to the couch, lying him down gently. 

He quickly went to work, doing his best to clean up the shards of table decorating the floor before taking a mop to it and doing his best to get the blood all taken care of.

Unfortunately, even with his best scrubbing, the wood was still a rusty brown where the blood had pooled. 

He picked up a burner phone and called a local appliance store, ordering a new (and better) fridge to replace the currently busted one. It would arrive by 3pm and be up and running by 5pm, when Wade and Peter would be long gone. It was almost 10am now. 

He followed up with a call to a furniture store, placing an order for a nice, oaken table to be delivered at about the same time.

Wade threw on a hoodie and sweats and carried the shards of table down to the dumpster as quickly and unobtrusively as he could. He definitely got a side-eye from the old man as he entered the elevator, carrying a laundry basket lined with a garbage bag, full of bloody table pieces. He hoped that the man couldn't see his damaged mask, but Wade wasn't going to take any chances.

Once back in the apartment, he placed a call to a local grocery store to have them deliver a shitload of groceries at 5:30pm, giving them a credit card with the name "Walter White" on it. He preferred to use that pseudonym, in case if his real name was ever unsafe to use. Which, thanks to those asshole Avengers, it absolutely was.

He made a quick run to a local convenience store, waiting until the clerk on duty took a bathroom break before dashing in, grabbing as much jerky, energy drinks, and Fritos as he could, and left. He dropped a roll of hundreds behind to make it up to the clerk.

Once back at Neena's, Wade piled his junk food into a grocery bag and went to the bedroom. He filled a backpack with his extra change of clothes, Peter's (relatively clean) Hello Kitty pajamas, some guns, and a ratty stuffed unicorn that had clearly seen better days. It went with Wade everywhere.

When that was done, he went out into the living room and sat next to Peter. He tried to wake the boy up as gently as possible, so as not to cause another instinctual break for freedom. He placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, staying well out of firing range of his legs this time. He lightly shook the boy, whispering.

" _Peter. It's time to wake up. We need to go._ "

Peter didn't respond.

Wade huffed.

"Peter, please wake up. Open your eyes for me. Let me see those beautiful hazels."

This time, it worked. Peter slowly came to, moaning as his hands explored his sensitive face and chest.

"W... Wade? What happened?" He looked up at the masked man, who had a large hole in the mask, exposing his worried, electric blue eye.

"Nothing to worry about, Baby Boy. But we need to leave. I want you to put these socks and shoes on, and then we'll get out of here, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Peter looked from Wade's mask to where the dining table once stood, stomach dropping when he saw the ground.

"What did I do?" He sounded shocked. His stomach muscles clenched as he saw the sight of what had to be blood stains.

Wade shook his head.

"You did nothing wrong, Baby Boy. Nothing at all. I need to go have a quick word with Neena, and then we'll be leaving, okay? Please get your shoes on, I'll help you walk."

Peter nodded his head, slowly sitting up so he could put on the brand-new running shoes Wade had set at his feet. 

Wade sighed with relief, his suspicions that Peter may have more strength now confirmed. Hopefully it would be enough to get them to the safehouse he had in mind.

He stood up and walked to Neena's door. He knocked quietly.

"Enter." Her voice was quiet, and cold.

He twisted the handle and lightly pushed the door open. 

"Neena?" He stepped in, seeing her with her legs clutched to her chest on the bed. She was staring out the window.

"What do you want, Wade?" His heart pounded.

"I, uh... I just wanted to let you know we'll be taking off. I ordered you a new fridge and table, they should get here at 3. Your groceries should arrive at 5:30."

Silence.

"And... I just wanted to thank you, once again. You have done so much more for me and Peter than I ever could have asked for. So, thank you."

She didn't move.

"Goodbye, Wade." 

He nodded, sad. As he turned to leave and shut the door, he heard her say his name again.

"Yeah?" He turned to her, hopeful.

She slowly turned to him, red, puffy eyes boring into his.

"No more favors."


	19. The Ride to the Safehouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter sit in the back of a taxi, and finally get to have a real-ish conversation.

Dopinder showed up just as Wade and Peter left Neena's apartment building. He had a big smile on his face as he greeted the mercenary, who wore his hoodie and sweats over his uniform, with Peter's arm around his neck. 

Peter looked like exhaustion incarnate. He was able to make semi-shuffling movements, but hardly anything more than that. He was grateful that Wade took his time, walking at Peter's snail pace. He couldn't take more than the tiniest of steps, hardly able to lift his feet off the ground.

Wade tried not to let Neena's words sting. He was lucky that each of his safehouses held a few million in cold hard cash - he wasn't sure Weasel would be giving him any jobs anytime soon.

"Dopinder! My sweet caramel coffee! Help me get in the car and LET'S GO." Wade looked around as subtly as one can in a forward-facing mask, scanning the skies for patrolling Avengers.

"Sure thing DP!" He ran out of the car, grabbing the (very heavy) backpack Wade handed him, trying not to let it topple him. He threw it in the trunk as Wade and Peter got in the back seat.

Dopinder slid into the front and turned back to Wade.

"Where to?"

Wade handed him a small slip of paper, detailing his chosen safehouse.

Neena looked on as the taxi sped off, joining New York's mid-afternoon rush. She hadn't intended to be so cold. But having that boy wonder's fist almost cave her skull in...

It was enough. She was done, for now.

Wade sighed, tossing his current mask outside the window and slipping on a new one. Peter hardly got to see his bald head in between the change.

"Why do that?" Peter asked. He was tired as hell, as per usual these days, but wanted to finally start talking to the man who saved him.

Wade glanced over at Peter, his white eyes expressive of embarrassment.

"Well, sugar plum, I've had one too many friendly people such as yourself start gagging when they see this ugly mug. I can't blame them. I'm a fucking testicle with teeth."

Peter giggled slightly. Wade's heart skipped a beat at that, in a good way this time.

"Not that bad."

Wade shook his head, bouncing his left knee up and down.

"You don't know what you're saying. After all, you took a pretty big hit back there." Peter frowned.

He vaguely remembered what happened. Kicking Wade. Being tackled, getting his head slammed into the fridge.

He looked at his lap, ashamed. "My fault."

Wade gasped obnoxiously, taking on a posh, high-pitched British accent.

"Oh my! That simply will not do! You did nothing wrong, nothing wrong at all!"

Peter looked up, the slightest uptick in the corners of his mouth.

"Don't believe. But thanks." He leaned over, lying against the merc's sturdy shoulder. Wade blushed.

"W- well, anytime, little one! After all, you aren't to blame. It's not your fault that fucker's haunting your dreams."

Any trace of Peter's smile vanished.

"Can't sleep. Not again." Wade's brows angled upwards, concern crossing his face.

"You'll need to sleep again, Baby Boy. If you're gonna get strong enough to beat down on Beck and give him the ol' one-two, we need you back in fighting shape."

Peter shrugged.

"Guess. Tired of nightmares." Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes.

Wade looked over at him sadly.

"I know, hon. But the sooner you get better, the sooner we can hunt that sick asshole down and make him regret ever coming after you."

Peter looked up at Wade. He wished he could see his eyes.

"Where going?"

"We're headed out to Queens. I have a safehouse there that should be untouched. I know those costumed cunts have raided at least five of my safehouses, but there's still twelve I have left, if my motion sensors are to be believed." Peter frowned in confusion.

"Mad at Avengers? Didn't hire you?" Wade chuckled darkly.

" _Oh yeah,_ they hired me. But they're not too happy with me at the moment. When I rescued you and made my way home, they were waiting for me. For some reason, they couldn't trust that I'd give you back to them or something!"

{Cause they were soooooo wrong about that.}

"You know why I did it."

[Yeah, but still. You did kick three of their asses.]

"That was fun. Do it again in a heartbeat."

Wade must not have realized he was talking out loud, as Peter stared up at him in confusion.

"Wade?"

Wade turned to Peter, looking in his big hazel doe-eyes.

"Yes, darling?" Peter blushed slightly. He liked all these nicknames.

"Talking out loud."

Wade put his hands on his cheeks, gasping.

"Dammit! You two need to shut up when I'm talking with Petey!"

[Sorry.]

{Sorry-not-sorry. That was hilarious. I wondered when you'd notice.}

"Who two?" Peter asked.

"Oh, nothing to worry about Baby Boy." Another blush spread across the boy's cheeks. "Nothing to worry about at all."

Peter let his gaze fall again, staring at Wade's thigh. It was so thick!

"Work out."

Wade blushed under his mask.

"Hold up there, honeybuns. I think we need to give you a chance to heal before you start flirting with lil' ol' me. And we need to make sure you don't have a concussion, you're talking pretty crazy right now."

Peter's face turned red.

"I need to work out." Wade's heart practically stopped.

{You're a fucking schoolgirl.}

[It's adorable, leave him alone!]

_~Just wait until the sexy stuff comes! Rawr. Won't call him a schoolgirl then, Yellow.~_

"I- I'm sorry about that, sugar plum! I totally knew that's what you meant, absolutely. How long until we get there, Dopinder?"

Dopinder looked up in the rearview mirror, chuckling.

"Two minutes, Mister Pool."

"Thank God."

Wade put a hand over his mouth, sometimes starting to talk, but trying to remember to stay silent.

Peter found this incredibly amusing. He even poked Wade a couple times in the side, trying to get him to laugh and embarrass himself more.

Wade was giggling like, as Yellow said, a schoolgirl by the end of the ride, trying to avoid Peter's fingers.

"You are _killing me_ , Baby Boy! God damn!"

The minute the car stopped, Wade jumped out and ran to the trunk of the taxi, letting Peter fall down onto the seat where Wade's butt just was.

_*So warm.*_

Wade picked up the heavy backpack, then ran to help Peter up and out of the car.

Wade and Peter gave a hearty wave to Dopinder as he sped off, blasting his Hindi music down the street.

Peter still relied heavily on Wade, leaning against him and only really able to take his small, shuffling steps. But he was significantly less tired than when he got in the Taxi. Wade was starting to show a habit of being able to bring out the light in him.

They trudged their way to a dingy elevator with a flickering light. Wade selected the fourth floor. After a six-minute elevator ride, the too-loud _ding_ opened the door and they walked out, down to apartment 412.

Wade slid the key into the lock and opened the door. 

Peter was shocked at how filthy this place was. Rats and roaches scuttled about mountains of pizza boxes, taco wrappers, empty soda cans, old bits of damaged, bloody uniforms... you name it. He tried to hold his breath best he could until Wade brought him to the couch, which was surprisingly clean given the state of the rest of the apartment.

"Here you go, Baby Boy. You go ahead and watch something while I... pick up a bit." Wade handed Peter a remote, and he clicked on a channel.

It opened to a network for children's cartoons, and Peter laughed quietly. This seemed exactly like Wade's taste. 

As Wade started rushing around the place, throwing garbage and screeching pests into huge black bags that Peter suspected weren't intended for trash exclusively, Peter could only think one thing.

_*I'm safe.*_


	20. The Unicorns on the TV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade calls an old friend to clean his apartment while Peter faces the threat of another nightmare.

Peter dozed off, soothed from the comfort of the kid's show and Wade's huffs and puffs as he cleaned.

He meant to stay up, to watch Wade as he quickly picked up the trash and rodents from his apartment. And yet, that's not what happened.

...

His eyes darted open, flashing back and forth across the white bed between each mechanical hand holding him down.

He wished he could say he wasn't ready for this. He wished he could say that Beck's malicious, evil voice was a surprise at this point.

He couldn't.

...

Wade sighed, finally having packed all the garbage and pests into the trash bags. He looked over at Peter, who had fallen asleep while watching Wade's favorite magical pony-based show. He wanted to let Peter get some much-needed rest, but he worried about what torments the boy was facing at this very moment.

He made up his mind, walking over to Peter, who had slumped sideways on the couch, and shook his shoulder.

His hazel eyes opened widely, darting across the entire room. He was panting, looking clearly shaken.

Once he took a moment to settle down and realize where he was, Peter dove at Wade, giving him a deep, hard hug. His super-strength was returning, popping Wade's back.

"Geez! Hey there, Pete! I'm sorry for waking you, but I was worried about what that bastard might be doing to you."

Peter's eyes teared up. "Don't apologize. Helped me."

Wade nodded, making small soothing sounds as he hugged Peter back and stroked his hair.

"I'm glad I could help, Baby Boy. I'm so glad. Here! I got you a present!"

He waited until Peter let him go, looking appreciative and curious.

He ran to the door, to where he had left his backpack. He yanked stuff out, strewing items across the ground haphazardly, until he found what he wanted. He pulled out a bunch of cans of energy drinks and went back to Peter, setting them down on the table.

"You will need to sleep at some point, but at least we can make sure you're as ready to do it in your own time as possible."

Peter's heart thudded.

"That's sweet, Wade. Thank you."

Wade felt a surge of energy run through his core at Peter's use of his name.

"It's no worries at all Pete!"

And with that, Wade threw all his crap back into his bag and got on the phone.

Thirty minutes later, there was a knock on the door and Wade opened it, a stern-looking older Mexican lady on the other side. She held a tray of cleaning materials and wore an apron and bright yellow rubber gloves.

"Hello Theresa! I hope you and Raul are doing well?"

She nodded.

"Yes, Wade, very well. He sends his thanks. Where do you want me to start?" Wade shrugged, gesturing to the place as a whole. 

She looked around, noticing the roach eggs and rat droppings, the dust, mold... 

"You need to take better care of yourself!"

Wade nodded, looking down at his hands.

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be on the couch if you need me."

Wade picked up his backpack and sat next to Peter, letting Theresa get to work.

Peter looked at Theresa curiously. 

"She won't report you to the Avengers?" Wade shook his head.

"Her son is currently going through a severe bout of chemotherapy and radiation right now. I make sure they have the money to afford the treatments. In return, I can call on her at any time to come and help me clean up any of my apartments. It's a good deal, and she's a sweet lady."

Peter smiled.

"That's good. Seems nice."

Wade nodded. "She is."

As Theresa began sweeping, Wade placed his arm around Peter, keeping it only touching the couch in case the boy didn't want to be touched at the moment. When Peter leaned into his shoulder, nestling comfortably, he let his arm fall and scooch the boy closer.

They vaguely watched the television for a while, Wade ordering pizza for the both of them as Peter started guzzling down an energy drink. 

Wade thought for a few minutes how best to approach Peter with his next subject. He sighed and began talking.

"So, Petey..."

Peter looked up at him, eyes soft. 

"So, Wade."

Wade beamed beneath his mask.

"I've been thinking-"

"Always good to practice." Another smile.

"-and I think it's time we try and get you back into fighting shape. I know you still have a lot of problems with energy levels, but that's only going to improve if you get back out there, climbing walls and swinging rope and stuff. Then, we can go hunt down that son of a bitch and give him what he deserves."

Peter looked pensieve for a minute.

"Good idea. Start tomorrow?"

Wade smiled, nodding. He couldn't believe he was getting the chance to work with his hero, helping rehabilitate him back into crime-fighting shape.

"The only other problem I can think of right now, sweet boy, is if we run into an Avenger. You've been gone for several weeks now, and I have no doubt they are keeping a close watch on the city."

Peter nodded, thinking.

"I'll need new outfit, no red and blue. Don't want them right now."

Wade's brows drooped. He hoped Peter would be okay. He didn't want to risk losing the boy if one of those super-prats stumbled upon them. He'd have to be prepared.

"Listen, Pete. Do you have anywhere near here where you keep an extra suit? Maybe something whose colors you could change?"

Peter smiled lightly.

He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, taking down his old address.

"Go here. Look in bedroom, in the paneling. Silver case."

Wade nodded. He grabbed the paper and went to ask Theresa to wait for him to return before she went home, to keep an eye on Peter. She had no problem, so with that he took off. The address was not too far from here.


	21. The Man in the Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade explores Peter's home.

Dopinder screeched to a stop outside of Wade's apartment building. He had a samosa in his hand, looking starved.

"Hello, DP! Ready to go?" Wade nodded and sprinted out the car, sliding in the back. He'd left his hoodie and sweats to be cleaned in the load of laundry Theresa was preparing. 

He slid into the cab, grotesque grin under his mask.

"You know it Dopey! Let's get rockin' and rollin'!"

With that, Deadpool was off towards Peter's old apartment in Queens. 

It was a quiet drive, not much activity going on besides the traffic. Every now and then, Wade thought he saw a shadow glint across the hood of the car, but the passing Avenger never took notice of the Indian man's standard taxi.

The neighborhood they arrived in seemed to be falling apart slightly. There were plenty of thugs on street corners, needles littering the ground, and a general sense of danger. Wade even heard a gunshot not too far off, not that he noticed. Guns were so common in his line of work that this was little more disturbing than a rat squeaking. But the thugs, needles, and danger were more easily noticed by him.

_They need Spiderman._

[Yes. You need to bring him back.]

Wade furrowed his eyebrows.

_Why is it my responsibility? Why do **I** have to bring Spiderman back? Why can't I just appreciate Petey for who he is now?_

White took a moment to consider Wade's question before answering.

[This _isn't_ who he is, Wade. It's who he's _pretending_ to be while he heals.]

{Yeah. Once Spidey-babe is all better, he'll dump your sorry, rotten ass for someone he can actually stomach looking at.}

Wade couldn't help but let the words sting him. These thoughts were never far from his mind.

Wade sat quietly while Dopinder drove him to Peter's apartment. Once he stopped outside, Wade scanned the skies and rooftops. He'd hoped no Avengers would be here, but you could never be too careful.

He dashed out of the taxi, leaving a wad of bills for a concerned Dopinder. 

Once inside the building, he took a deep breath. After breathing out, he made his way to Peter's old floor and apartment.

The place was deserted. Nobody was even behind the front desk. Someone who wasn't immortal may have noticed this, but even Deadpool's mercenary senses didn't pick up on the absence of people in the moment. 

He jimmied the lock of Peter's apartment easily, opening the door to a drab, empty space. He went to Peter's old room and jumped up on the bed, launching up a cloud of dust. He coughed and cleared his throat as he pushed up on random ceiling panels. Finally, he hit the right one, pushing out a small metal box.. He cheered, jumping down on the ground. He walked to the window, thrusting it open harshly, breathing in the "fresh" Queens air. 

There was a creak behind him. Deadpool had just enough time to launch the box through the cardboard portion of Dopinder's roof before he was electrocuted by Fat Thor's brand-spanking-new axe.


	22. The Boy and the Preparation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter hears of Wade's abduction, and prepares to save his man.

There was a  _ KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK  _ on the door, making Peter jump up, wincing.

Theresa stopped vacuuming, startled.

"Mr. Wilson doesn't knock!" Peter shook his head.

_ *No, he doesn't.* _

Peter stood up shakily, caught his breath, and walked to the door to open it. Behind it stood Dopinder.

"MISTERPETERMISTERPOOLHASBEEN-"

Peter held up a hand, breathing heavily.

"Slow down, Dopinder! Please."

Dopinder took a shaky breath.

"Mister Pool has been taken by the Avengers!"

Peter's heart sank. Without Deadpool, without his suit...

As if on cue, Dopinder held out the small metallic box. Peter's eyes widened.

"Mister Pool threw this through my roof before he was taken! I think he wants you to have it."

Peter nodded as he took the box, smiling slightly.

_ I can do this. _

"Get inside, Dopinder. Watch TV with Theresa while I get Wade back."

Dopinder nodded, happily  _ plonking _ down on the couch.

Peter pressed the main button on the silver box, making ten digits appear. He pressed his code into the holographic interface and watched the box open, revealing the two slim wristbands within. He pulled them out and put them on. 

Once both were on, he wrapped his hands over his wrists and pressed the tops of both simultaneously, causing a new holographic interface to appear. He customized the colors and some new tech on his outfit before confirming and activating the outfit.

Theresa and Dopinder stared in shock as Peter equipped his new super-suit. It was sleek, metallic, and equipped with more dangerous technology than was customary for a Spider-Man outfit. It was also black-and-red. 

_ *I'm coming, Wade.* _

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Thanks for reading! I hope this isn't absolutely awful lol. I'm trying my best to capture the spirit of the characters... but who knows?
> 
> 2\. Comments are my favorite! Let me know what's going right and what's going wrong! LET ME LEARN!
> 
> 3\. I HAVE MAJORLY UPDATED STORY SO I LIKE IT BETTER. LOTS OF THINGS WILL DRASTICALLY CHANGE. SHOULD GO BACK TO START. STAY TUNED FOR UPDATES


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